Strawberries and Moonlight
by Agent Nova
Summary: Gordon's been banished, John pranks an unsuspecting brother, Alan and Tin-Tin fall out, Virgil's long kept secret is exposed, and poor Scott's caught in the middle of it all.
1. Chapter 1: Strawberries

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Thunderbirds. The following story has been written purely for entertainment purposes - no profit is being made by the author.

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**Strawberries and Moonlight**

**Chapter 1: Strawberries**

In one swift motion, Scott Tracy's splayed fingers sliced through his thick, damp hair as he strolled along the corridor, picking up the pace a little once the kitchen door came into view. He'd worked up a monstrous appetite following his three-mile run along the beach earlier, and his stomach began noisily alerting him of its lack of sustenance soon after he'd showered.

Striding into the kitchen, Scott headed straight for the fridge, pulling the heavy door open with ease. Hungry eyes feasted on the vast array of tempting delicacies within. A clear plastic container virtually overflowing with plump strawberries caught his attention. He grinned wickedly.

_I'll just have one, no-one will notice. _

He reached in, blissfully unaware another pair of eyes was watching his every move. With a thumb and forefinger, he gently plucked out what appeared to be the biggest strawberry of the lot. His mouth watered in anticipation as the fruit neared his lips...

"I wouldn't touch those, if I were you."

Scott froze. He was sure his heart skipped several beats. His head slowly pivoted towards the source of the voice; a soft, masculine tone he'd instantly recognised. His shoulders visibly sagged when his gaze fell upon the tall, slender figure casually propped against the door frame.

"Jeez, John. Give a guy a heart attack, why dontcha."

John grinned broadly. "Sorry, Scott. Guess I should be more careful now that you're practically an old man, huh?"

"Hey, watch it, wise guy," Scott retorted in a mock scold. "I'm thirty-four next week, not eighty-four. And I'll have you know, I'm still in my prime." Irrespective of John's warning, Scott shoved the strawberry into his mouth and ate it with obvious pleasure. He then grabbed a wrapped chicken sandwich. "Anyway," he added, giving his brother a knowing smile, "you're not that far behind me."

"You got a point there," John mused.

Scott firmly nudged the fridge door shut with his elbow and hastily opened his snack. "So, who are the strawberries for?" he asked, before taking a large bite out of his sandwich.

"They're Alan's. He bought them on his trip to the mainland this morning. He's planning a romantic picnic with Tin-Tin later this evening, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's counted them."

Scott paused in mid-chew. "You gotta be kidding me, right?"

John chuckled. He made his way over to where Scott stood and perched himself on the edge of the kitchen table. He kept his voice low.

"Well, from what he's told me, everything has to be perfect." Looking directly into his brother's eyes, John leaned forward and smiled. "He's finally decided to ask Tin-Tin to marry him."

Scott swallowed. "Really? That's great! They've been together for a while now, so it's about time, I guess." He then frowned. "But Alan never said anything to me. When did he tell you?"

"Yesterday. During the trip home from Five."

"I see."

Scott couldn't help feeling a little disappointed knowing he hadn't been the first one Alan approached with the news. But before he could dwell on the matter, John offered an explanation.

"He's been meaning to tell you, Scott. I'm sure he would've said something last night, if it hadn't been for Tin-Tin not giving him a moment's peace. You know what those two are like after a month apart." John smirked before continuing. "He got up extra early this morning to go shopping and came back about an hour ago. The kid's had a lot to organise for tonight. He just hasn't had the chance to talk to you yet."

Inwardly appreciating John's effort to reassure him, Scott smiled thinly and nodded his head in understanding before devouring the rest of his sandwich.

"So, where's Alan now?" he asked, brushing away a few stray breadcrumbs from his denim shirt. He pulled the fridge door open again and took out two cans of soda, throwing one to John.

"Thanks. He went off to find Kyrano a little while ago. Dad suggested that he do the right thing and ask for Kyrano's blessing first."

"Dad knows?"

"Yeah, and Grandma does, too. But no one else knows. At least, not yet anyway. Alan didn't mention anything to Gordon during yesterday's change-over."

Scott grinned. "That reminds me, how's Gordon doing up in Five?"

John had initially been scheduled to relieve Alan the previous day, but a last minute change of plan ensured Gordon would be covering John's duty instead. Two days ago, Gordon had been adding some finishing touches to one of his most elaborate practical jokes to date. Unfortunately, being called out on a rescue mission meant he had no time to do a safety check, and his father just so happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with disastrous results. Despite his son's desperate pleas for forgiveness, Jeff was adamant Gordon would be spending time in Thunderbird Five to mull over his actions for a while. And so it was arranged, much to Gordon's displeasure.

"He's doing okay so far," John replied, with slight trepidation. "But you know what he's like. It'll only be a matter of time before he starts complaining about something."

"Hello, you two," a gentle, melodious voice greeted from the doorway.

With characteristic grace and poise, and her usual display of cheerful exuberance, Tin-Tin made her way into the kitchen. She carried, in both hands, a large silver serving tray, laden with empty cups.

Scott met the young woman with a warm smile. He put down his drink and ventured over to her.

"Here, honey, let me take that for you."

Tin-Tin flashed him a dainty smile. "Thank you, Scott." She lightly brushed a hand over her glistening brow. "I think someone should have a word with your father about the amount of coffee he's been drinking today. All that caffeine can't be doing him any good."

"Oh, it's okay, Tin-Tin," said Scott, placing the serving tray onto the counter carefully so as not to disturb its fragile load. "Grandma made Dad switch to decaf after the doc warned him to permanently cut out anything that makes his blood pressure skyrocket."

John took a sip of his soda before adding, "Shame he can't do the same with Gordon."

Both brothers laughed.

"Well, it's certainly very quiet around here today," Tin-Tin observed, elegantly crouching down to sort through the large cupboard under the sink. "Where is everyone?"

"Alan got back from the mainland a short while ago," John offered, exchanging a brief glance with Scott. "And I think Virgil's out by the pool."

"Oh," replied Tin-Tin, vaguely.

The young woman eased herself up. After smoothing out the creases in her blue satin dress, she reached for the high shelf above the sink, skimming a delicate hand along its smooth surface. Muttering unintelligibly under her breath, she then pulled out a drawer. Her shapely eyebrows pinched together as she meticulously rummaged through its contents. When it became evident she hadn't found what she appeared to be looking for, she pulled out another.

Scott regarded her with mounting curiosity. "Is something wrong, honey?"

Tin-Tin sighed. "You two haven't seen my ring anywhere, have you? It's the silver one with the large emerald stone. I was sure I'd left it in my room, but it's not there." Unsuccessful in her search, the young woman gently pushed the drawer closed. "And it doesn't seem to be around here, either."

Scott shook his head. "No, I've not seen it."

"Maybe Grandma found it and put it someplace safe," said John.

Tin-Tin frowned thoughtfully, running a slender finger along her lower lip. "Yes, maybe." She looked up at John and smiled. "I'll go and ask her if she's seen it."

Scott waited a few moments after Tin-Tin left before he spoke. "You don't think she overheard us talking about Alan before she came in, do you?" he asked anxiously.

John smiled and rested a hand on the elder Tracy's shoulder. "You worry too much." Then, leaning closer, he made a point of inspecting his brother's hair. "You know, you might wanna get some hair dye for that little grey patch you got coming through there..."

"Will you cut that out!" Scott growled, swatting his brother's probing hand.

John chuckled, eyes twinkling in amusement. "Grey hair and old age come hand in hand, Scott. But you'll discover that soon enough."

"Oh, is that a fact?" Scott snatched the soda can out of John's hand and lifted it a few inches above his brother's head, tilting the object precariously on its side. A playful sneer touched the corners of his lips. "Care to run that by me again?"

John wisely refused.

"Psst! Hey, fellas!"

The two men frowned at each other, then simultaneously looked up to see their youngest brother gingerly poke his head around the door frame.

"Is Tin-Tin around?" he whispered, baby blue eyes almost bursting out of their sockets.

"Nope, the coast is clear, Al," said John, stealing back his drink while Scott was off guard. "In fact, you've just missed her."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Alan quickly slipped in.

Scott noticed the bunch of loosely-tied pink roses in his brother's hand. "Are those for me?" he beamed, clutching his hands beneath his chin and blinking theatrically for emphasis. "Aww, Alan, you shouldn't have."

Alan grinned. "I didn't." He rolled his eyes when Scott gave him a mock pout. "They're for Tin-Tin."

With a subtle wave of his free hand, the young man signalled Scott to move aside, allowing him access to the sink. He reached for an empty crystal vase situated on the shelf above him, then proceeded to fill it with water.

"So, what's the special occasion?" asked Scott, winking at John whilst Alan's back was turned.

Alan placed the roses into the vase and looked up expectantly at his eldest brother. "I'm gonna ask Tin-Tin to marry me. Isn't it great?"

Scott heaved himself up onto the counter and listened intently as Alan went into lengthy detail about his plans for the evening. It warmed his heart to see his youngest brother so passionate and excited. The fact that Alan hadn't told him first didn't matter anymore. As far as Scott was concerned, if the kid was happy, so was he.

"We've talked getting married before," Alan concluded. "But that was a while ago and neither one of us were ready at the time. It's different now, though. It feels right."

Scott smiled fondly at his brother and clapped him on the shoulder. "That's good to know, buddy."

"How'd it go with Kyrano, by the way?"

Alan met John's gaze with his own. "It went okay. It was kinda awkward, though."

"Why, what happened?"

Alan stared thoughtfully for a few moments, then winced. "He cried."

"Gee, I hope for your sake they were tears of joy, kiddo," Scott teased.

Ignoring John's muffled snort, the young man shot his eldest brother an icy glare. "For your information, yes, they were. In fact, he was delighted..." Alan paused, face suddenly serious. "At least, that's what he said."

"Aww, don't be so hard on the kid, Scott. He's only young." John grinned at Alan and jerked his head in the elder Tracy's direction. "Unlike some people we know. Right, Al?"

Scott made a vague sound in the back of his throat.

"Yeah, Scott," Alan jeered, completely oblivious to the danger signal. "Just because you're almost _middle-aged _now, it doesn't mean you got the right to-"

"Oh, that does it!"

Scott hurled himself off the counter and lunged at Alan, pulling him into a firm headlock and ruffling his hair. When the young man protested, Scott began to tickle him mercilessly; poking and prodding in places he knew would have the kid squealing for sure. Alan thrashed about wildly, pleading his release amid fits of laughter.

"Careful, Al, we shouldn't let the old fella get too excited. He might have a coronary."

Scott's brow puckered at John's comment, but he was unable to hide his grin. "Knock it off, or your next."

Taking advantage of Scott's distraction, Alan quickly wriggled free from his hold. He ran his fingers through his hair, combing down the tousled blonde locks. Before allowing Scott the chance to grab him again, he took the roses and made a dash for the exit.

"I gotta find someplace to hide these before Tin-Tin sees them. See you guys later."

"Let us know if you need a hand with anything," John called.

"Will do." Before he disappeared from sight, Alan abruptly stopped and looked back. "By the way, you haven't eaten any of those strawberries, have you, Scott?"

Scott cringed. "Uh, no."

"Good, 'cause I'll know if you have." Alan's lips curled into a devious smile. "I counted them."

**To be continued…**

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**Author's Note:** The ages and birth order of the Tracy boys has always been a subject of debate. Personally, I like the idea of a ten year age gap between Scott and Alan. I also believe that John is the second eldest and Virgil was born third. My stories are written with these concepts in mind. I understand that others may have different opinions regarding this information and I respect that as I don't consider my beliefs to be factual.

Reviews will be most appreciated. Thanks.


	2. Chapter 2: Space Case

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Thunderbirds. The following story has been written purely for entertainment purposes - no profit is being made by the author.

Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, and thanks also to Geuss - who I couldn't reply to personally.

**Warning:** This chapter contains strong language. Gordon's fault. :)

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**Chapter 2: Space Case**

Closing his eyes beneath his black tinted shades, Virgil Tracy sighed contentedly as he felt a wisp of the warm Pacific breeze gently glide over his body. Heaven. Pure heaven. He had enjoyed having the pool all to himself earlier that morning and was now determined to relax and make the most of the peace and quiet, knowing there was no chance of a certain copper-haired sibling sneaking up behind him with a bucket of ice-cold water at the ready. Virgil smiled to himself, relishing in the idea of being Gordon-free for a whole month. He found himself reflecting on the events of two days ago, grimacing as he recalled the unfortunate injuries his father had sustained due to Gordon's botched prank. But, despite the regrettable outcome, Virgil was secretly relieved. After all, it was he who had been his brother's intended victim to begin with.

Adopting a more comfortable position on the sun-lounger, Virgil continued to bask in the warmth of the midday sun and allowed his calm, intellectual mind to drift along a perpetual stream of tranquil thoughts. The soothing harmony created by ocean waves washing onto the nearby beach was almost enough to lull him into a deep, restful slumber. And he would have happily taken a siesta, if it weren't for the peace being abruptly shattered by two brothers heckling him from the balcony.

"Hey, Virg! Don't stay out in the sun for too long!"

"Yeah, make sure you use plenty of sun-block, or you'll end up looking like a lobster!"

"Or worse, a baboon's ass!"

Virgil groaned quietly. He peered over his shades at the two snickering men before resting his head back in its original position. Then, in a premeditated and somewhat bold move, he raised his right hand in the direction of the balcony and slowly extended his middle finger.

He grinned with satisfaction when he heard John's howl of laughter and Scott's amused retort.

"Charming, Virg. Charming."

~TB~

"That guy's so vain," said John, chuckling as he followed Scott back into the lounge.

Scott smiled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, if Virgil had his way, he'd be out there all day, every-"

When the eyes on Gordon's portrait began to flash urgently, Scott's mind closed around the prospect of an emergency call and without a second thought, he sprang into action. He raced towards his father's desk; leaping over the small, oval coffee table that lay in his path with skilled efficiency. Steadily manoeuvring out of a controlled sideways skid across the marble floor, he reached for the brass figurine on the corner of the desk, angled it backwards and flicked the response switch discreetly located under its base.

"Go ahead, Gordon."

Scott kept a steady gaze on his brother's portrait as it rapidly morphed into his live image.

Instead of Gordon's usual cheery expression, Scott was presented with a rather anxious looking young man, whose brow was creased, mouth drawn in tightly and eager eyes shifting from side to side as if searching for something, or someone….

"Where's John?"

Scott raised an eyebrow. It wasn't the response he was expecting, but it was enough for him to know this was unlikely to be an emergency call.

"Hello to you, too, little brother," he hinted, mildly.

Gordon blinked. "Yeah, hi, Scott. Well, is he there?"

With a quick tilt of his head, Scott motioned John to join him. He then perched himself on the edge of the desk, arms folded, shoulders square.

"You know, unless it's an emergency, Gordon, you shouldn't be using this frequency. You're not-"

"It _is_ an emergency. Well, kinda."

Frowning at his brother, Scott continued, "You're not exactly flavour-of-the-month with Dad right now, and if he catches you…"

"Oh, relax, Scott," Gordon urged, waving a dismissive hand. "This won't take long."

"Hey, Gords. What's up?"

With an exasperated sigh, Gordon turned his attention to John. "I think there's something wrong with the environmental controls," he complained. "It's too darn hot up here. I can't remember how to adjust the thermo-thingy. It's not doing my space sickness any favours, and I-"

"Space sickness?" Scott repeated. He hadn't expected that. "Gordon, since when have you ever suffered from space sickness?"

The younger man shrugged. "Since I got here."

Scott's eyes narrowed sceptically. "But you've been up there several times before and never felt sick."

"I do now." Gordon leaned forward, pointing at his own face. "You see this? There's no need for you guys to change the monitor settings. My complexion really _is_ green."

Unconvinced, but slightly amused by his brother's claim, Scott intensified his focus on the screen. He began thinking about the countless times Gordon had pulled a similar stunt whenever he was reluctant to attend school as a child. There were a few occasions in which the young redhead had managed to convince their grandmother, but Scott was nobody's fool.

"You look okay to me," he murmured, in a bid to call the young man's bluff.

"What?" Gordon cried. "Are you blind? How can you not…" He stopped, expression conveying sudden realisation. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"Well," said Scott, forcing back a smirk, "it wouldn't be the first time you've cried wolf, kiddo. And we all know how much you hate space duty. So, why don't you put a stop to this whole space sickness baloney and just admit that you're bored?"

Gordon's frown deepened. "I'm not bored!" He then averted his gaze, adding quietly, "Well, maybe just a little bit."

Scott and John grinned at each other.

"But that's not the point!" Gordon continued, looking back at his brothers with renewed audaciousness. "What's it gonna take for me to convince you guys that I really do feel sick, huh? Am I gonna have to go spilling my guts all over the place before you believe me? 'Cause I will, ya know."

Scott winced at the mental image brought on by his brother's threat.

"There's nothing wrong with the environmental controls, Gordon," John stated calmly. "If there was a problem, Alan would've spotted it during last week's maintenance check. So-"

"So, there won't be any need for you to adjust the _thermo-thingy_, after all," put in Scott, consciously allowing a wry smile to grace his features.

Gordon scowled. He opened his mouth to respond, but John cut him off. "If you're feeling nauseous, go get a box of meclizine tablets from the supply room and take one."

"I already did."

"You've got to give it time to take effect."

"Don't you think I know that?" Gordon snapped, clearly irritated by John's rather unsympathetic tone. "I took one of 'em about twenty minutes ago. And I still feel like shit."

"Gordon!"

The young man's face crumpled into a rueful grimace. "Sorry, Scott."

John gave him a tolerant smile. "Try and do something constructive to take your mind off it."

"Oh? Like what?"

"How about your job?" cut in a firm, gruff voice.

Gordon immediately straightened, cursing bitterly under his breath. Scott was beginning to think the kid had some kind of death wish.

Tucking a folded newspaper under one arm, Jeff Tracy took a lingering sip from his coffee cup and strode into the lounge. After acknowledging his two eldest sons with a subtle nod, he locked an unyielding glare onto Gordon. He stopped several feet away from the monitor, blocking Scott and John's view of their brother.

"Is this an emergency call, son?" he asked tersely.

"Uh, no, sir. I was, um, I was just-"

"Gordon was just giving us a weather report, Dad," Scott offered, hoping his father hadn't already overheard the entire conversation.

Jeff swung around and eyed his eldest son suspiciously. He then glanced back at Gordon. "All right. Make it brief."

"Yes, sir."

All three brothers looked on in silence as their father made his way towards the balcony, firmly sliding the large glass door shut once he was outside.

Gordon slumped back in his chair. "He's gonna be mad at me forever, isn't he."

"Dad just needs a little time," said John. "He'll soon calm down."

"Yeah, maybe," Gordon murmured, somewhat dubious. "He's looking much better now, though. At least the swelling's gone down. Oh, and thanks for that, Scott. I owe ya one."

"Actually, you owe me several."

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry. I always pay off my debts."

When his brother flashed him a mischievous grin, Scott inwardly groaned. "You'd better go before Dad comes back." He pointed a finger. "And the next time you decide to have a gripe, Gordon, use the non-emergency channel, okay?"

The young man looked as though he was about to protest, until Scott fired him an uncompromising glare.

Gordon rolled his eyes, sighing in resentful defeat. "F.A.B." He threw a half-hearted salute at his brothers before terminating the link.

Scott slowly shook his head. "Space sickness," he scoffed. "I can't believe he'd expect us to fall for that. Is there anything that kid won't try and do to worm his way outta…" He broke off when John started to chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing."

Scott's suspicion was immediately aroused. He was not in the least bit persuaded by John's one word answer.

"Nothing, my ass," he murmured. He then noticed the impish glint in his brother's eyes. "And I know that look, John. I don't often see it in you, but I _know_ that look." A curious little half-smile curved Scott's lips. "What's going on?"

When John failed to provide an answer, Scott pitched forward and began to study his brother's face intently; an action which resulted in John laughing all the more. He frowned. Deliberately withholding information from Scott Tracy was never a wise thing to do and anyone who knew him well enough would certainly be able to confirm that fact, especially his brothers. But even they had tendencies to push their luck at times, much to his annoyance.

Sighing with frustration, hands now resting on hips, Scott felt he had no choice but to resort to 'Plan B'.

"Are you gonna tell me what's going on, or do I have to beat it outta ya?"

Folding his arms across his chest, Scott smiled. He was confident this light-hearted threat would get him exactly what he wanted, as previous success on many occasions dictated.

John grinned sheepishly. He looked thoughtful for a few moments, evidently considering his brother's 'proposal'.

"Well," he began, shifting uncomfortably as he rubbed the back of his neck, "there's actually an explanation behind Gordon's apparent bout of nausea..."

"Oh?" prompted Scott.

John cleared his throat. "Shortly before Alan and I left him up in Five, I quickly sneaked into the Auxiliary Control room and decreased the pressure on the gravity compensators. I figured Gordon wouldn't notice what I'd done, seeing as he doesn't spend that much time up there."

Scott's jaw dropped. "You did _what_?"

"I only changed the pressure a little bit," said John, cheeks reddening as his gaze drifted to the floor. "Just enough to make him feel a tad woozy. The effects of the slight weightlessness will wear off in a few days, once his body gets used to it. He'll be fine." Shooting a sly glance at his brother, he added, "It won't hurt to let the guy suffer for a while."

For seconds, Scott was speechless - an exceptionally rare occurrence. He stared at his brother in astonishment, not quite believing the fact that John, usually the most straight-laced of all his siblings, could be capable of carrying out such a deed. He soon found himself sharing in his brother's amusement, however, despite feeling a tad guilty for not believing Gordon. And although he would never openly admit it, he thought John's combined bashfulness and obvious delight in causing Gordon's predicament was actually quite endearing.

"John Tracy, you sneaky devil." Scott grinned and lightly cuffed his sniggering brother's shoulder. "Why'd you do it?"

Beaming gleefully, John replied, "I wanted to get him back for switching my toothpaste with chilli-mayonnaise, and an opportunity like this doesn't come up all that often. I couldn't exactly waste it, could I?"

~TB~

Virgil never considered himself to be the lazy type. But unless there was a rescue to attend, or maintenance to carry out, most of his spare time was spent in idle luxury. Being the son of a billionaire certainly had its perks. Nevertheless, it wasn't long before he began to feel restless, and so, spurred on by a growing thirst in need of quenching, he decided it was time to abandon the idyllic solitude of the poolside lounger - at least until tomorrow - and make his way back to the house.

With a beach towel casually slung over one shoulder, he padded across the patio towards the balcony staircase. Unclad soles pattered up the white marble steps two-at-a-time.

"Hi, Dad."

"Son," came the reply from behind a newspaper.

Virgil rounded the table his father's feet were rested upon to gain access to the villa. He reached for the door handle, then paused. Removing his sunglasses, he took an opportunity to observe his father's profile. The now yellowing bruise of a distended black eye was still obvious, but as far as the other injury was concerned...

"Say, Dad," he began, clearing his throat to shake off the sudden awkwardness he felt, "how's the, um…"

Jeff did not look up. "Fine, thank you."

Virgil pursed his lips and nodded. He realised it wasn't such a good idea to address that particular outcome of Gordon's misdemeanour after all. It was clear his father was still tetchy over the whole incident. Understandably so. It was just as well Jeff had no intention of ever adding to his brood anyway. Virgil decided it was best to leave his father in peace now and continue on his way.

As soon as he stepped into the lounge, Scott let out a soft whistle. "Nice tan, Virg."

Virgil met him with a facetious glower. "Shut up." He turned to close the door, giving in to a coy smile when Scott chuckled.

With a quick glance back over his shoulder, he noticed his two eldest brothers were perched on the edge of their father's desk, facing the portraits opposite.

"Has Gordon called in?" he asked, jerking a thumb at the redhead's picture as he approached the two men.

"Uh-huh," John replied, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "He's having a little difficulty up in Five."

"Well, that's nothing new," murmured Virgil, only too aware of Gordon's tendency to complain at every given opportunity, particularly whilst on space duty. "What's he whining about this time?"

When Scott told him about John's sabotage, Virgil let out a hearty laugh. "So, our resident fish is feeling a tad green around the gills, huh?" He brought up a hand to give John a congratulatory high-five. "Nice one, bro."

"Say, Virg, John and I are gonna have a game of chess a little later on. Care to join us? Only, I want someone to bear witness to me whooping his ass."

"In your dreams, old man," John scoffed, earning himself a playful jab in the ribs from the elder Tracy.

Virgil smiled and shook his head. "No thanks. I'm gonna go take a shower and then hang out with Brains for a while. I wanna run through those blueprints for Two's engine upgrade. The port side was a little sluggish on her last mission…"

Scott sighed. "All work and no play will make you a dull boy, Virg. Besides, if you spend too much time indoors, that magnificent tan of yours might fade. And you've worked _so_ hard to get it, too."

Virgil laughed off his brother's satirical remark and effortlessly threw back one of his own. "I'm making the most of my sharp, _young_ mind, Scott. I'd suggest you do the same, but…" He frowned in false sympathy, reaching up to give his brother's cheek a condescending pat. "It's probably too late for you now."

Virgil ducked, successfully avoiding Scott's swinging arm.

Regaining his posture, he grinned smugly and took his brother's fierce look as his cue to leave. Fortunately for Virgil, he knew when to quit while he was ahead. Being a mere five-feet-seven-inches tall himself - the shortest of all his brothers and a victim of much ridicule because of it - he wasn't about to risk any further opposition with a six-foot-four-inch towering bulk of solid muscle. Crossing that line was never an option Virgil took lightly to, even if the confrontation was in jest.

"Careful, Virg," Scott warned humorously. "I still got plenty of get-up-and-go in me, and I'd be more than willing to kick your butt in order to prove it."

Virgil didn't doubt that. But being the wise Tracy that he was, he made sure he was at a relatively safe distance from his eldest brother before responding.

"You'll have to catch me first...Grandpa."

"Hey! What did you just say?"

Virgil chuckled, prudently speeding up his retreat.

**To be continued…**

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**Author's Notes:** Okay, firstly, I think I should explain about the part where Scott answers Gordon's call. Normally, when a call from Five comes in, Jeff is sitting at his desk and he flicks a nearby switch - which tilts the ashtray(?) and opens up the channel. Well, as you can see, I've tweaked it a little so that Scott could respond without having to move around the desk to get to it. I wanted to make the action run as smoothly as possible, and in my original draft, the slight deviation from canon seemed to have the effect I was aiming for, so I stuck with it. Hope nobody minds.

Secondly, Virgil's height. After watching 'The Vault of Death' a while ago, I noticed that in one particular shot, the scene where he and Alan are inside the Bank of England trying to cut their way through the steel door, Virgil appeared to be the shorter of the two. I took that idea on board and decided to make a point of it in one of my stories, which just so happened to be this one. I know some other authors have mentioned Virgil's 'shortness' in their stories and I just wanted to highlight my inspiration for doing so in mine.

Finally, I decided to post this chapter early because I finished proof-reading it a lot sooner than I expected (any mistakes are mine, by the way). However, the following chapters will be posted on a weekly basis from now on.

Reviews will be most appreciated. Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3: The Ring

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Thunderbirds. The following story has been written purely for entertainment purposes - no profit is being made by the author.

I'd just like to say a huge thank you to all who have reviewed so far, your comments have been most encouraging. And thanks also to Wyld Stallion and Geuss - both of whom I couldn't reply to personally.

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**Chapter 3: The Ring**

"Now then, is that everything?"

Alan scanned the contents of the wicker basket one last time. "Yeah, I think so." Satisfied, he placed a folded plaid blanket over its contents and secured the lid. "Thanks for all your help, Grandma."

Ruth Tracy smiled warmly at her grandson. "You're welcome, sweetie. Oh, and I did what you said, I told Tin-Tin those strawberries were there for me to make preserves with. She doesn't suspect a thing."

Alan picked up the basket and gently patted his grandmother's fragile shoulder. "Thanks again, Grandma. I knew I could count on you."

"Now, make sure you store that someplace cool," said Ruth, pointing to the hamper, fussy as ever. "Otherwise, all the food will spoil in this heat."

Alan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Don't worry. I'm gonna leave it next to the Air Conditioning vent in my room."

Ruth nodded her approval.

As Alan turned to leave, she lightly tapped him on his shoulder. "You're not gonna leave without showing me the ring first, are you?" she asked, hopefully.

Alan chuckled fondly at the elderly woman's shrewd hint. "No, of course not."

He put the basket back down and reached into his trouser pocket. He pulled out a small black box and carefully opened it.

"Oh, my," Ruth exclaimed, clasping her hands together in delight. "It's perfect."

"I sure hope so. It took me ages to decide which one to go for. Do you think she'll like it?"

"Like it?" Ruth smiled and gave Alan's arm an encouraging squeeze. "Honey, she'll love it."

~TB~

It was a good hour and a half before Virgil finally emerged from his room, looking his usual immaculate self. Or, as his brother Gordon so aptly and frequently liked to put it, groomed to within an inch of his life.

He hummed happily to himself as he strolled along the corridor that would lead him beyond the kitchen and onwards to his destination; the service elevator to Thunderbird Two's hangar. He planned on joining Brains in the main laboratory, situated on the level below.

As Virgil made his way past the kitchen, he heard a loud smash, closely followed by a mumbled curse. He paused, then retraced his steps until he was standing in the doorway. Exceptionally pristine brows arched at the sight before him. His father was bent down on all fours, muttering under his breath whilst frantically scooping up the scattered contents of a broken coffee jar with his bare hands.

_Looks like Dad's found Grandma's secret stash of caffeinated. Oh, boy, if she catches him, all hell's gonna break loose._

Jeff must have sensed his son watching him. He stopped and looked up. His relief at seeing Virgil was obvious as his face relaxed and he let out a long breath. Virgil opened his mouth to comment, but Jeff put a finger to his lips, giving his son a silent hush. He then winked and tapped his nose. Virgil couldn't help grinning. He was about to offer his assistance, when his grandmother suddenly appeared from nowhere and barged into the kitchen, almost knocking Virgil clean off his feet as she pushed her way past. She may have been small in stature, but she sure was mighty. The elderly woman's reaction was immediate and, judging by Jeff's wince, a tad deafening.

"Jefferson Tracy! What in the world do you think you're doing?"

"Now, Mother, don't make a fuss. I was only going to have myself one cup…"

_Caught red-handed. I sure wouldn't like to be in Dad's shoes right now._

Virgil was keeping well out of this one. He chuckled quietly to himself and managed to slip away unnoticed, leaving the sparring pair to their own devices.

He hadn't got far when he saw Tin-Tin coming towards him from the opposite direction. He smiled as she approached.

"Hi, honey."

The young woman held her head low as she drifted by. Her response was nothing more than a faint mumble. Strange. Virgil looked on in confusion as she continued walking away at her brisk pace. Something wasn't right. Curiosity pressed him and he jogged after her.

"Tin-Tin, wait up."

She eventually stopped, but kept her back to him. Virgil caught up with her and carefully placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Tin-Tin, are you okay?"

When Tin-Tin turned to look at him, his heart sank. Her eyes were red and puffy, and tear tracks were evident on her pale cheeks. She was clearly not okay. Virgil's concern for her wellbeing went into overdrive and he immediately hugged her.

"Aww, honey," he murmured, as he felt young woman begin to tremble in his arms. "What's wrong?"

While he waited patiently for Tin-Tin to gather her thoughts, he brought up a hand to stroke her long, soft hair, appreciating the silky smoothness beneath his fingers as they trailed down the lengthy tresses. Hearing her cry tormented him in a way he could never put into words. He gently hushed her and rested his chin on top of her head. He soon found himself inhaling the sweet scent of her rose perfume. It felt good to hold her.

"I've lost it, Virgil," she finally whispered.

He frowned at her mournful tone. "Lost what?"

Tin-Tin slowly pulled away from his embrace, but Virgil kept a steady grip on her upper arms, unprepared to let her go while she was in such a delicate state.

"I've lost my ring," she replied, looking up at him. "I can't find it anywhere."

"Your ring?" he repeated softly, giving the young woman nothing but his undivided attention as he gazed into her opulent green eyes. "Which one?"

"The one my father gave to me on my twenty-first birthday. It belonged to my mother and I was supposed to look after it, but…but…" The young woman's face crumpled, eyes spilling new tears. "Oh, Virgil, it's gone! And I don't know what to do!"

Virgil drew her into his arms once again, more than willing to provide her with the comfort she so desperately needed right now. He held her tight, afraid her fragile heart would break if she wept any harder.

"Shh, honey, don't cry," he soothed, tenderly rubbing her back and swaying her from side to side in an ever-so-subtle motion. "It's gotta be around here someplace. I'll help you look for it, okay?"

Tin-Tin shook her head against his chest. "I've looked everywhere already," she insisted. "It's nowhere to be found. What am I going to tell my father?"

"Don't worry, it's all right," Virgil assured. "We'll find it. I promise."

At that moment, Alan approached them.

"What's going on?" he asked, giving Virgil what looked like a mildly suspicious frown.

Before Virgil could answer, Alan had taken note of Tin-Tin's distress and was instantly at her side, eager to discover the root of her anguish for himself.

"Tin-Tin, sweetheart. What's happened?"

Alan reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a crinkled handkerchief. In doing so, something else was flung out along with it. A small, shiny object hit the solid oak floor with a soft _clunk_ and bounced several times before coming to rest near Tin-Tin's left foot. The young woman bent down to retrieve it.

"My ring!" she cried, absently wiping her eyes as she drew herself up. She glanced at Alan. "Where did you find it?"

Alan paled slightly. "Oh, uh, in the kitchen."

"Really?" asked Tin-Tin, surprised. "Where was it?"

"On the shelf above the sink."

The young woman frowned in puzzlement. "But I looked in the kitchen earlier and it wasn't on the shelf."

"Grandma must've put it there, after you looked," Alan hastily offered. Somewhat unconvincingly, Virgil thought. And Tin-Tin must have thought the same thing, too.

"No, Alan," she said slowly. "I'd already asked her and she told me she hadn't seen it. If she had found it, she would've brought it to me straight away."

Alan coughed out a nervous laugh. "Well, you know absentminded Grandma can be at times. Maybe she forgot."

Virgil wasn't buying it. "Alan," he warned, knowing full well his brother wasn't being entirely honest. And although their Grandmother was indeed old, her mind was still as sharp as ever. Even Tin-Tin was aware of that fact. Virgil hoped Alan would take the hint and put down the proverbial shovel and stop digging.

It worked.

Alan looked at him, then back at Tin-Tin. He released a long breath. "Okay, so I didn't find it…" He hesitated for an instant, as if trying to find the right words, then confessed quietly, "I took it."

"You took it? Where from?" Although Tin-Tin's expression showed confusion, Virgil half suspected she had an idea as to what Alan's answer would be.

"Your room," Alan muttered, wincing slightly as if to prepare himself for an altercation.

"What?" cried Tin-Tin and Virgil in unison.

"Look, it's not what you think…"

"You went into my room without my consent?" Tin-Tin let out a short gasp at Alan's vague nod. "Alan, how could you?"

"I just needed to borrow it for a little while, that's all."

"And you thought that would give you the right to go into Tin-Tin's room and help yourself?" put in Virgil, unsettled by his brother's admission.

Alan shot him a contemptuous glare. "No, not exactly. Anyway, I was gonna put it back."

"That's not the point, Alan," Virgil argued.

Tin-Tin held the ring up to Alan's face, her self-control indicating an air of weakness as her hand shook slightly. "I've been searching for this all day, Alan. All day! Have you any idea how worried and upset I've been?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Alan's response was meagre, but it was all he seemed capable of offering the young woman at present. She wasn't prepared to accept the apology, though.

"Don't you 'sweetheart' me," she scolded. "I want to know why you took my ring."

"Well, it's kinda hard to explain."

"Try me."

"I…I can't right now."

"Why not?"

"Listen, Tin-Tin-"

"No!" she snapped, waving a hand to silence him. "I won't _listen_. It's not a difficult question, Alan. You invaded my privacy and deliberately took something that belonged to me and I want to know why." She gave him an unsavoury look. "Were you going to sell it?"

"No! I'd never do a thing like that."

"Then, why did you take it?"

Tin-Tin's increasing rage and frustration was palpable. Tears began to well up in her eyes and her breathing quickened. In an effort to diffuse the situation and calm the young woman down, Virgil reached over to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. But she jerked away from his warm touch as if irritated by the kind gesture. She continued to glare at Alan, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

"Tin-Tin, please," Alan implored. "You're just gonna have to trust me on this one."

"Trust you?" she cried. "You stole from me _and_ you lied to me! How can I trust you?" Pain and sadness veiled the young woman's pretty features. "We're supposed to be able to tell each other everything, Alan. Not keep secrets. What's the point of us being together if you can't even talk to me?"

Before Alan could respond, Tin-Tin brought up her hand to stifle a sudden sob and then abruptly stormed off.

After a split-second of hesitation, Alan charged after her, calling her name. Virgil tailed him.

"Let her go, Alan."

"No!" Alan shrugged off his brother's hand and quickened his pace. But by the time he'd caught up with the young woman, she had already sought the refuge of her bedroom and closed the door.

"Tin-Tin!" Alan cried, fists pounding fiercely on the thin wood. "It's just a misunderstanding. Can't you give me the benefit of the doubt, just this once?"

"No!" came the muffled reply. "You're a liar and a thief, Alan Tracy. And I never want to speak to you again!"

"Please, honey, open the door. I promise I'll make it up to you. Just give me a chance."

"Go away!"

"Tin-Tin!" Alan called again. But he was met with only silence.

With a defeated grunt, the young man's shoulders sagged and his head fell forward; striking the door with considerable force and creating a resounding _thud _as it made contact with the hard surface. Virgil instinctively winced. Alan didn't seem to care.

"Tin-Tin, please," he begged in quiet desperation, not quite loud enough for her to hear this time, though.

Virgil shook his head in silent contempt as he observed his brother. "You're a first-class idiot, you know that?" he murmured, folding his arms slowly across his chest to enhance a show of disapproval.

Keeping his forehead firmly pressed against the door, as if it were somehow glued in place, Alan twisted his neck awkwardly and looked sideways at his brother. His face was a picture of disbelief.

"What?"

Virgil stepped forward. "You'd better have a damn good explanation for this, Alan," he said, maintaining a degree of calmness despite the resentment he felt over his brother's misconduct. He cared deeply for Tin-Tin, as did the rest of his family, but the mere thought of anyone hurting her shook him to the core. In his eyes, what Alan had done was unforgivable.

Alan straightened. "I haven't got to explain myself to you." He turned to move off, but Virgil grabbed his arm.

"Don't you dare walk away from me," he warned, restraining the mounting anger within.

"Look, I don't need _you_ on my back, okay? So just leave me the hell alone." Alan struggled to free himself from his brother's grip. "Virg, lemme go!"

Unrelenting, Virgil tightened his hold. "Not until you tell me what's going on."

The stubbornness each brother possessed reared its ugly head and they both glowered at one another for long moment.

Alan was the first to give in to the silent standoff. He stopped resisting and sighed tetchily.

"Okay, fine." He cocked his head at Tin-Tin's door. "But not here."

Reluctantly, Virgil loosened his grip and the two men made their way further down the corridor until Alan was satisfied they were out of earshot.

"Well?" Virgil pressed, all set to conduct a full-on interrogation. "What the hell were you playing at?"

Alan frowned. "I had to take her ring, Virg. I had no choice."

Virgil mirrored his brother's expression. "What do you mean?"

"She wears it on her engagement finger."

"So?"

Alan directed a glance towards Tin-Tin's room, then looked back at his brother. "I bought her an engagement ring this morning," he said quietly. "And I had to take her old one with me to make sure I got the right size. There was no other way of doing it."

Virgil swallowed to rid his throat of a sudden dryness. "Engagement ring?"

"Yeah, I was gonna propose to her tonight. I've been planning it all day. That's why I couldn't tell her why I took it. It would've ruined the surprise."

"Surprise?" Virgil scoffed, inwardly recovering from his own shock at the news. "It's a bit too late for that now, isn't it?"

Alan's response was sombre. "It looks that way." He sighed. "I was gonna put it back, Virg. Honest I was. It's just that - well, I had so much to do with organising everything, I forgot I still had it in my pocket."

Virgil threw his head back. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "For the love of God, Alan. How dumb can you get?"

"Hey, I didn't plan on her finding out like this," Alan countered. "I thought I'd be able to put it back without her suspecting anything. I didn't think she'd notice it was missing and I-"

"That's just it!" Virgil cut in angrily, directing a finger at his own head to highlight his next point. "You didn't _think_. In fact, you never do! You're so damn selfish and arrogant at times, it's sickening."

Alan's eyes widened. He looked aghast. "Take it easy, Virg. I didn't mean for this to happen."

By now, Virgil was barely able to contain his fury. "When are you gonna realise that you have to put other people's needs and feelings into consideration before your own, huh? When are you gonna _grow up _and take into account the consequences of your stupid actions before you carry them out…?"

Alan stood silent, seemingly dumbfounded.

Virgil shook his head in disgust at his brother's lack of response. "I don't think you ever will," he persisted, giving the young man a look of pure disdain. "Have you any idea how much that ring means to her?"

"Well, sure I do, but-"

"But you went ahead and broke into her room to steel it anyway. Making her sick with worry, making her cry…" Virgil curled his fists tight, trembling as the anger erupted and took a firm hold. "Is that how you get your kicks these days?" he growled, words thick with accusation.

A look of horror swept over Alan's face. "What? No! How could you even suggest such a thing? Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean-"

Virgil continued his tirade with no intention of allowing his brother to get a word in, no matter how much the young man tried.

"If you wanna ask Tin-Tin to marry you, then fine, you go right ahead. But good luck with it, Alan, because you're sure as hell gonna need it. Although, if her reaction back there was anything to go by, I doubt she'll ever wanna set eyes on you again, and I wouldn't blame her! You're pathetic. You've got no respect for anybody but yourself. And do you wanna know something else?" Virgil jabbed a finger firmly in the middle of Alan's chest, causing the young man to take a step back. "I'm ashamed to call you my brother."

"Come on, Virg, you don't mean that," Alan reasoned, his voice wavering slightly. "I said I was sorry. What more do you want?"

"Sorry isn't good enough!" Virgil leaned in close, both men's faces now inches apart. "You're nothing but a thoughtless jerk, Alan Tracy," he hissed, blatantly ignoring the fact that the young man's eyes were now brimming with tears. "And if you ask me, Tin-Tin's better off without you. And so am I."

On that last note, Virgil spun on his heels and thundered off, untouched by the faint sniffles emanating from the distraught young man he'd so cruelly belittled and left behind.

**To be continued…**

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**Author's Note: **I feel compelled to apologise to any Virgil fans out there for his outburst in this chapter. It'll be explained further on in the story (unless you've figured it out already…?). Oh, and I made a complete guess as to the whereabouts of Brains' lab. I thought that perhaps the service elevator could stop at the lab first before going all the way down to Two's hangar.

As always, feedback is very much appreciated, so please let me know what you think of the story so far. Thanks.


	4. Chapter 4: Desperate Measures

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Thunderbirds. The following story has been written purely for entertainment purposes - no profit is being made by the author.

My heartfelt thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, and thanks also to Whirlgirl and Josie - both of whom I couldn't reply to personally. I'm glad I didn't upset too many people with the previous chapter. I was very concerned about how Virgil's performance would be received back there (I honestly thought I'd thrown myself to the lions with that one). I hope you enjoy this chapter, though. It contains a big dose of brotherly fluff.

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**Chapter 4: Desperate Measures **

Alan Tracy was devastated. His aching heart left tattered and torn, anguished soul in dire need of rescuing. It was the end of the world, and there was only one thing he could do about it….

"I need a drink."

With his mind set, Alan petulantly marched along the corridor towards the main living area. His heavy footsteps echoed callously throughout the sparse confines of the hallway as if to ridicule his desolation and further mock him for his tactless endeavour. Trembling hands futilely wiped the hot tears coursing down his cheeks. He hadn't meant to hurt Tin-Tin, and what was Virgil's problem, anyway?

He heard voices drifting from the lounge as he approached. He slowed his pace and then, advancing with caution, peered inside.

_Damn. Why did they __have to be in there?_

Quickly brushing away any remaining traces of tears, Alan took a deep breath and entered. His two eldest brothers were so engrossed in their chess game, they failed to notice the troubled young man walk in.

"Checkmate!" John declared, folding his arms and smiling triumphantly at a bemused-looking Scott.

"What? You cheated!"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"I did not. You're only saying that because you're a bad loser."

"Am not."

"Are too…"

When his brothers began exchanging playful insults and wrestling each other to the floor, Alan sighed and headed over to the drinks cabinet next to his father's desk.

He had no idea what he was pouring into his glass, nor did he care. He swiftly downed its contents; wincing in disgust as the bitter liquid seared the back of his throat. He poured another.

"Stupid Virgil," he mumbled, feeling the need to blame his brother for what he was doing, in order to somehow justify it.

Alan was so intent on drinking himself into a stupor, he failed to notice the silence at first.

Then, it registered.

Slowly, he turned around. Sure enough, his brothers had stopped their antics and were now watching him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. It was a well known fact that Alan had a low tolerance to alcohol, and it was most unlike the youngest member of the Tracy clan to even contemplate having a drink, let alone actually doing so.

"Hey, Al. You okay?"

"Alan, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Alan shot back, deliberately gulping down yet more of the vile-tasting potion in full view of both men.

Scott and John exchanged worried glances and quickly converged on their brother.

"Okay, that's enough." Scott yanked the empty glass out of Alan's hand.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?"

"This is gonna go straight to your head," Scott said firmly, holding up the glass in gesture. "And you should know better."

"I'm old enough to have a drink if I want one."

"Yeah, just one," John put in mildly. "Not several."

"It wasn't several!"

Scott picked up the crystal decanter, examining in disbelief what little remained of the amber liquid. "Gosh, Alan. How much have you had?"

"Just a couple of shots." Alan felt his cheeks flush slightly at the lie. But he remained defiant, folding his arms across his chest for good measure. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"You're not gonna be any use on a rescue if you're intoxicated, Al," said John. "We could get a call-out at any time. You know that."

Alan cast him a moody scowl. "I don't care."

But when he caught a glimpse of Scott's disapproving glare, Alan lowered his head, instantly regretting the sudden movement when a dull throb radiated from behind his eyes. He groaned quietly. The tears he'd recently shed were the most likely cause of his headache, but pride ensured his unwillingness to let this fact be known to his brothers. He would rather have them think it was the alcohol.

"I'll go get him some coffee," said John, quickly sprinting away.

"Make sure it's not decaf!" Scott called after him.

Alan slowly ran a hand down his face and sighed. The anger that had coursed through him a short while ago had now dissipated and was replaced with guilt, self-pity and regret. Feeling shameful for what he had just done, he closed his eyes and clenched both fists, bracing himself for the inevitable onslaught of choice words from a disgruntled brother. He waited. Nothing happened. He dared himself to open one eye, and flinched when a warm hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Listen, kid. I'm not gonna yell at you, okay? I just wanna know why you felt the need to drown your sorrows instead of coming to talk to me about what's bothering you."

Confounded by Scott's unexpected calmness and ever-present ability to read his mind, Alan found himself unable to respond. He knew that if he looked at his brother, his self-control would weaken for sure. He hadn't cried in front of Scott for a long time and had no intention of starting now, not if he could help it. He continued to avoid eye contact with his brother, choosing instead to keep his gaze firmly fixed upon his own feet.

"Alan, what's wrong?" enquired Scott, his tone soft and inviting. "You were full of beans earlier on. What's happened?"

Alan hesitated, not quite sure of how, or even where, to begin. Everything was in such a mess. He opened his mouth, only to clamp it shut again. He wanted to tell Scott about what happened, but he was suddenly anxious.

_What if Scott thinks I'm a thoughtless jerk, too? _

Fresh tears pricked the corners of the young man's eyes as Virgil's harsh words echoed through his mind. He bit down hard on his trembling lip, mentally cursing his fragility and wishing he wasn't so quick to succumb to his emotions. Determined not to breakdown, he used all the strength and resolve he could muster and willed himself to keep it together.

Scott gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "C'mon, kiddo. You can tell me. What's the matter?"

Alan considered for a half-minute, slowly coming to the conclusion that it would be in his own best interests to confess and risk the chance of Scott condemning him, just as Virgil had. He was apprehensive, of course, but he knew Scott would keep on questioning him until he got an answer, and there was little point in making things more difficult for himself. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard in preparation for his reply.

"I did something real stupid," he muttered, his throat involuntarily constricting with every word as he struggled to keep his surging emotions at bay. "And now they hate me."

"Who hates you?"

"Tin-Tin and Virgil. I…I've ruined everything…"

In a vain attempt to prevent the swell of tears escaping, Alan closed his eyes. But a single tear broke free and swiftly rolled down his cheek before he had the chance to turn away and hide it from his brother.

"Oh, Alan. C'mere."

Scott took a small step forward and wrapped his arms around the young man's shoulders, pulling him into a comforting hug.

Realising he was fighting a losing battle to uphold his composure, half-blaming the effects of the alcohol but secretly knowing otherwise, Alan bitterly relented and returned his brother's embrace. He buried his face into Scott's warm shoulder and began to quietly cry.

Upon hearing Alan's muffled sobs, Scott hugged him tighter. "Hey, it's okay," he soothed, a slight urgent concern emanating from his tender voice, which often accompanied the elder Tracy in his eagerness to console a brother in distress. He gently rubbed a hand over Alan's back. "It's gonna be okay."

"No, it isn't," sniffed Alan, miserably. "Everything's gone wrong. And it's all my fault!"

"Shh, easy now," Scott hushed, cradling the young man's head against his shoulder. "It's all right."

Scott continued to rhythmically caress his brother's back and whisper soothing words until finally, Alan's crying ceased.

Tired and forlorn, Alan allowed himself to relax in his brother's secure hold. He knew Scott would want to hold him for a little while longer, at least until the elder Tracy was satisfied he'd been suitably reassured. It was something Scott always did. And given his current emotional state, Alan was only too happy to cast away his inhibitions and stay put.

"What am I gonna do with you, Alan Tracy, hmm?" Scott murmured in thoughtful affection, breaking the comfortable silence between them both.

"Shoot me?" Alan offered, dolefully.

Scott let out a soft chuckle and inched his brother back slightly. "Why on earth would I wanna do a thing like that?"

"It's no more than I deserve."

"Hey." Scott gently pushed his brother away and held him at arm's length. When Alan refused to look at him, he cupped the young man's chin and eased his head up. "Now, you listen to me, kiddo," he ordered mildly. "Nothing is _ever_ that bad. And I won't have you talking like that, you hear?"

Alan breathed a heavy, pitiful sigh. "I'm sorry."

Scott's taught frown loosened, his stern expression changing into one of compassion and understanding. "How 'bout we go sit down and you tell me all about it?" he said softly.

Staring into his brother's kind eyes, Alan nodded, his whisper barely audible. "Okay."

Maintaining a delicate grip on Alan's arm, Scott carefully guided him over to the couch and, with a subtle push, eased him down. Alan slumped back and allowed his weary body to sag into the soft, luxurious padding. Scott settled next to him, wrapping a protective arm around his brother's smaller frame, holding him close.

The ache between Alan's eyes began to nag him once again. Moaning quietly, he pinched the bridge of his nose and gently massaged the tender area, hoping the repetitive action would offer some form of relief. He wasn't quite sure if this was the result of the tears or the alcohol now. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

Scott lightly brushed a thumb over his brother's shoulder. "You okay?"

Alan tilted his head upwards to meet the elder Tracy's concerned gaze. "Headache," he muttered, weary eyes half-closing.

"Uh-huh," Scott murmured knowingly. He remained sympathetic, nonetheless. "That's what happens when you drink too much of Dad's whiskey, kiddo."

Alan grimaced in recollection. "I wondered what that stuff was."

Moments later, John returned, coffee cup in hand.

"It's about time," Scott announced, making a point to look at his wristwatch. "I was gonna send out a search party. What took you so long?"

John hurried over. "You said no decaf. I had to look everywhere for this stuff. And then Grandma caught me making it and thought I was sneaking it out for Dad. She would've got suspicious if told her it was for Alan, so I had to convince her it was mine before she'd let me go. It was no easy task, believe me."

Scott chuckled. "I can imagine."

Aiming a cynical smirk at the elder Tracy, John pushed the chess board aside and lowered himself down onto the small table opposite the couch.

"Here you go, Al," he said kindly, holding out the drink for his brother. "This'll make you feel better."

With a little help from Scott, Alan sat upright. He took hold of the cup and scrunched up his nose when he peered inside. He hated black coffee. The sight and smell of it made him feel queasy at the best of times, and his present condition only served to heighten his aversion. By now, the young man was starting to think that this day was one of the worst of his entire life.

Encouraged by his brothers, Alan reluctantly sipped the hot beverage. His stomach churned in protest with each intake, but - much to his surprise and relief - he managed to polish off every last drop, and was only too glad to hand the empty cup back to John once he was done. He then sank back into the couch, grabbed a nearby cushion and held it close to his chest.

"Come on, Al," said John, tilting forward to rest a reassuring hand on his brother's knee. "You'll be okay."

"You've got no idea," Alan grumbled, absently seeking comfort by leaning into Scott's side.

Scott drew the young man into a one-armed hug and gently rubbed his shoulder. "C'mon, kiddo. Tell us what happened."

**To be continued…**

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**Author's Notes:** I wish Scott and John were my big brothers. They're awesome. Gotta love 'em, huh? And I think I've developed a taste for Alan angst after writing this *grins menacingly*. Poor guy. Now I know why writers like to whump him so much.

Anyway, I'm a little concerned that I may have written Alan slightly out of character here. I've always considered him to be a bit of a spoilt young man (I was gonna type 'brat', but it seemed too harsh), who's been pretty much sheltered and protected for most of his life, seeing as he's the youngest. And out of all the Tracy boys, I see Alan as the weakest when it comes to emotional discipline. But don't get me wrong, it's not that I dislike him. I actually find his naivety quite endearing. I just hope his behaviour in this chapter didn't distract from the story too much.

Please take a few moments to let me know what you think. I can't get any better if I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Thanks.


	5. Chapter 5: Missions of Mercy

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Thunderbirds. The following story has been written purely for entertainment purposes - no profit is being made by the author.

I am over the moon with the reviews! Thank you all so very much. Whirlgirl and Hezwel, I'm pleased you're enjoying the story so far, and many thanks for your comments.

**Warning:** This chapter contains strong language.

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**Chapter 5: Missions of Mercy**

Holding a cup of steaming hot cocoa securely in one hand, John gently rapped his knuckles on Tin-Tin's door.

"Tin-Tin?" he called out softly. "Are you in there?"

"Go away, Alan."

John's lips quirked at the corners. He figured the young woman must be quite a distance away from the door if she couldn't distinguish between his voice and Alan's. Both brothers were alike in looks, but that's where the physical similarities ended.

"Tin-Tin," he called again, a little louder this time, "it's John."

There was a brief pause. "John?"

"Yeah, you got a minute?"

John lightly drummed his fingers against the side of the cup while he waited for Tin-Tin to come to the door. He straightened up when he heard a shuffling movement coming from the other side.

With a faint _hiss_, the door slid open, revealing Tin-Tin's weary form.

Dark smudges beneath her eyes were evidence of the tears she had shed and her hair was mussed, giving John the impression that she had been laying on her bed and sobbing into her pillow at one point. She stood with her arms tightly folded across her chest, chewing her bottom lip - an unconscious action whenever she was anxious, puzzled, or in this instance, upset.

"Hey, there," he greeted softly, masking his concern with a warm smile.

She gave him a suspicious look. "Did Alan send you?"

"Uh, no, not exactly. I heard about what happened and I wanted to see if you were okay." Tin-Tin didn't need to know of his hidden agenda just yet. It was important that he gain her trust first, for Alan's sake as well as her own. "May I come in?"

With a small sigh, the young woman moved aside and allowed him access.

"Thanks. Here, I made this for you."

She looked up at him, a humble smile softening her face. "Thank you," she said, taking the cocoa.

Cradling the cup in both hands, the young woman carefully made her way over to her bed and sat down. She motioned John to take the armchair opposite.

Once he was seated, he looked on as Tin-Tin took a dainty sip of cocoa and, with fingers laced, thumbs tapping, he began deliberating over how best to strike up a conversation. He didn't have a chance to think for long. Tin-Tin beat him to it.

"I take it you know what Alan did," she said, cutting straight to the chase.

John nodded, secretly glad she'd steered the conversation in the direction he had intended to take it. It would make his task a lot easier.

"Yeah, and he's awful sorry about everything." He pursed his lips for a moment. "I'm not here to make excuses for him, Tin-Tin, but he's really upset over what happened and-"

"Well, so am I," Tin-Tin cut in defensively. "He betrayed my trust and I feel very hurt and angry."

John frowned in sympathy, absorbing her point of view. "Of course you do," he said gently, maintaining an element of consideration to reassure her of his neutrality. "I understand how you must feel, really I do. And believe it or not, so does Alan."

A cleft formed between Tin-Tin's eyebrows. "Did he mention why he took my ring? Only, he didn't have the decency to tell me."

"Yes, he did. But he really would appreciate it if you could give him the chance to explain it all himself."

"I see." The young woman's tone was laced with resentment. "Swore you to secrecy, did he?"

"No, not at all. I just think it would be far better coming from him than it would coming from me."

Tin-Tin shook her head, she didn't seem persuaded.

John now realised that in order to tap into the young woman's compassionate side and stand a better chance of her coming around, he must pull out all the stops. He took a deep breath, feeling a little uneasy about what he was going to say, even though he deemed it necessary.

He leaned forward. "Listen, Tin-Tin, I wasn't gonna mention this to you, but Alan had gotten himself pretty worked up over the whole thing and - well, between you and me, he looked like he'd been crying."

Tin-Tin looked up from her cup, eyes wide. "He did?"

John nodded sadly. "Yup."

It was true. John had noticed Alan's red-rimmed eyes earlier. Alan wasn't the most tactful-minded of souls, but his heart was in the right place, and neither John nor Scott could bear the thought of all his hard work and planning turning to dust because he'd inadvertently slipped up. So, they had both decided to take it upon themselves to try and put things right again, after persuading Alan it would be worthwhile, which had proved quite a challenge in itself.

John began to wonder how Scott was getting on with Virgil.

"Oh, I didn't mean to make him cry," said Tin-Tin, clearly unsettled by the revelation.

"Well," John continued, noticing his efforts seemed to be having the desired effect, "apparently, Virgil had given him a hard time over it, too. From what I heard, he'd ripped the poor kid to pieces. He said some pretty mean things to Alan, and although Alan did wrong, he didn't deserve that."

The young woman cast her eyes down and sat silent for a while. "I was a bit harsh with him, too," she admitted shamefully. "I called him a liar and a thief."

"You were upset," John reasoned. "We all say and do things we don't mean in the heat of the moment."

Tin-Tin continued staring into her cup, avoiding John's gaze. "I told him I never wanted to speak to him again..."

John's brow knotted with concern when he realised she was crying. He got up and went over to her.

"Hey, now," he soothed, sitting beside the young woman and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Don't be too hard on yourself, honey. He knows you didn't mean it."

Tin-Tin brought up a hand to wipe away her tears. "How can you be so sure?" she asked mournfully.

John reached over and pulled out a tissue from the box on her bedside table.

"Here. Because he wants to meet up with you at the beach later, so that you guys can have some privacy and talk things over."

Tin-Tin dabbed her eyes. "I don't know. I'm not sure if I can. I-"

"It's okay," said John, sensing her insecurity and squeezing her against him briefly. "I know this isn't easy for you, and the last thing Alan would wanna do is pressure you. If you need to think about it, then by all means do so. There's no rush."

The young woman rested her head on his shoulder. John hugged her tightly.

"Take all the time you need," he said, confident that she would come to her decision sooner rather than later. This had turned out better than he'd hoped.

She sighed heavily. "What a mess."

John regarded her with a fond smile. "I know. But it's not too late to put things right."

Tin-Tin appeared to take his words into careful consideration. "I'll think about it."

~TB~

Meanwhile, in Thunderbird Two's cargo hold….

"Hey, you're proving to be somewhat elusive this evening. I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Why didn't you call me on my wrist-comm?"

Scott held up his brother's communicator briefly before tossing it to him. "You left it in your room," he said flatly, knowing full well Virgil had done so on purpose. "Anyway, I thought you were gonna be in the lab with Brains, going over those blueprints."

Virgil shoved the watch into his trouser pocket and continued working, moving about from one stack of storage containers to another, silently analysing the inventory notes attached to each of them.

"Yeah, well, I had to take care of some stuff in here first."

It was an unlikely story. But with discretion currently high on his agenda, Scott decided against pursuing the matter. He leant back against the hull, crossing his ankles and folding his arms.

"So," he began, informally, "is everything okay?"

"Sure," Virgil murmured, idly tapping information into the small electronic data-pad he was holding. "Why wouldn't it be?"

He knew why Scott was here. The elder Tracy's thinly disguised attempt at casual conversation was a big enough clue. Virgil refrained from being impolite, however, by choosing not to ask his brother if he had anything better to do.

Scott in the meantime, picked his words carefully. "I heard that you and Alan had a bit of a disagreement this afternoon."

Virgil paused for an instant, then met his brother's eyes. "Let me guess, the little squealer went crying to you, right?" He shook his head. "I knew he would."

"Actually, he tried to get himself drunk first."

"That doesn't surprise me."

Scott frowned. "Surely that gives you some indication of how upset he was."

"He's only got himself to blame, Scott. I've got no sympathy for him."

"Virg, this isn't like you," said Scott, disturbed by his brother's indifference. "What's the problem?"

"Alan is the problem," Virgil snapped. "He pisses me off."

Confusion clouded the elder Tracy's features. "Pisses you off? I find that hard to believe. Gordon, yeah. But Alan?"

"They both do. They're the 'Terrible Two', remember?"

Scott sighed, he didn't need reminding. "Alan said you called him a thoughtless jerk. Is that true?"

Virgil merely shrugged.

"Is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?"

Another vague shrug.

Scott's patience was beginning to wear thin. "Alan thinks you hate him."

"Maybe I do."

"Oh, come on, Virg, that's a bit harsh. He told you why he took Tin-Tin's ring."

"Yeah, and of all the thoughtless, idiotic stunts that kid's ever pulled, this has to be one of his worst."

Scott stared incredulously at his brother. Virgil was known for his moodiness, but this was unwarranted. "What the hell's gotten into you?"

Virgil looked away, scowling. "Nothing."

After thinking for a moment, Scott said, "This isn't the first time you and Alan have clashed recently. Has something else happened between you two?"

"No," Virgil replied, albeit a little more bluntly than he had intended. He turned around and continued with his work, regardless.

Scott watched his brother whilst his own mind was left to work out the reason why Virgil held so much anger towards Alan lately. Most of the time, Virgil kept his distance whenever Alan and Tin-Tin argued - the young couple's relationship was volatile at the best of times - but if Virgil ever did become caught up in the crossfire, he always had a tendency to take Tin-Tin's side and give Alan a hard time….

"Listen, Scott," Virgil finally said, growing increasingly irritated by his brother's lingering presence. "I can't talk right now, I'm busy. I wanna get this done before-"

"You've got feelings for Tin-Tin, haven't you."

Virgil felt as though his chest was filled with lead. He blanched as Scott's words weighed heavy in his mind. It wasn't a question, more like a statement, and only Scott could get away with being so direct with him. He closed his eyes tightly against the wave of nauseating dread that engulfed him. Had his behaviour become that obvious? It would appear so. Scott was right. Dammit, he was _always_ right. But that didn't make Virgil any more willing to pour his heart out to the brother he was closest to. He wasn't ready.

"I care about her, if that's what you mean," he said, keeping his back to his brother. He couldn't face him, it was too risky. He knew he would falter and Scott would pick up on it instantly.

"No, that's not what I mean, and you know it."

Virgil tightened his grip around the data-pad, inwardly chastising his brother's astuteness. "I don't have feelings for her. Don't be ridiculous." It was a futile attempt to sound convincing. Virgil never was any good at lying, even if it was to cover up his own indiscretions.

"If that's the case, look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong."

_Damn._

Virgil hesitated long enough for Scott to know his assumption was correct. "Well, this explains everything," he murmured, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

At last, Virgil turned to face him. "Look, Scott, it doesn't matter, okay?" He secretly wished his brother would just drop the subject and forget about it. Fat chance.

"Doesn't matter?" Scott cried, making the younger man wince. He quickly took note of his brother's reaction and softened his tone accordingly. "Virgil, how can you say that? Of course it matters! If you're gonna go jumping down Alan's throat every time he and Tin-Tin have a spat, the kid's sure to figure it out. He may be young, but he's not stupid."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Virgil growled, still seething over Alan's carelessness.

Scott gave his brother a cautionary glare. "Maybe you need more time to calm down."

Virgil stared back at him with equal intent. "Maybe you need to mind your own business."

For the second time in one day, Scott was lost for words. He soon found his voice. "This _is_ my business," he stated firmly. "And you're out of order."

"Oh, so once again, I'm the bad guy, am I? Alan screws up and _I'm _the one who's out of order?"

When Scott spoke, it was with contained frustration. "Don't twist my words, Virgil, that's not what I meant. Anyway, it's not like he's committed the crime of the century, so just cut him some slack, okay?"

"Why the hell should I?"

Scott felt a slow rage boiling up within him. "Because he didn't mean to upset Tin-Tin and he's sorry for what he did, that's why. The poor kid suffered enough when Tin-Tin yelled at him, but that wasn't enough for you, was it? You had to go and kick him while he was already down!"

"Yeah, and maybe it'll do him some good!" Virgil retorted. "Maybe it'll make him realise that he can't go on treating her the way he does. She deserves better, Scott. I hate how selfish Alan can be around her. He takes her for granted, too, and I can't stand that. He doesn't seem to realise how lucky he is to have her. It's like he's oblivious to it. I tell ya, that little jerk wouldn't know a good thing if it jumped up and bit him on his ass!"

That struck a nerve. "For crying out loud, Virgil, he's just a kid!"

Virgil made no effort to conceal his resentment. "Well, it's pretty clear where your priorities lie, isn't it? No matter what Alan does, you're always jumping to his defence. It's like he can do no wrong. You're always quick to make excuses for him and fuss over him like he's still a kid. Well, guess what, Scott? He's not a kid anymore! He's twenty-three-years-old! Part of the reason why he's such an immature, self-centred little prick is because _you_ won't let him grow up and face his responsibilities!"

Scott saw red. "That's enough!" He stepped forward, pointing a finger at his brother, voice taking on a more sinister tone. "I'm warning you now, if you ruin this for Alan, or even Tin-Tin for that matter, I swear to God, I'll…" He broke off, suddenly realising he could take his threat no further. He couldn't even if he wanted to.

Sometimes, Scott's over-protectiveness for Alan overrode his rational side, and fortunately, he'd realised that just in time. He was supposed to have remained neutral throughout all of this - there were two sides to every story, after all - but it had proved a lot more difficult than he'd anticipated.

"Dammit!" he muttered, bringing a hand to his forehead, full of regret and hating himself immensely. He could've kicked his own backside if it were physically possible. "I'm sorry, Virg. I didn't mean that."

Virgil, on the other hand, wasn't so willing to forgive and forget.

"You'll do what?" he persisted, angst-ridden eyes darkening with rage. "Disown me? Hit me?" He threw down his data-pad and positioned himself into a challenging stance. "Well, go right ahead, Scott! If it'll make you feel better!"

_Ah, shit._

Scott now wished he'd traded places with John. "Look, I didn't come here to fight with you, Virgil," he said, raising his hands and doing his utmost to maintain a diplomatic tone, even though his brother's eyes were shooting daggers at him.

Despite his height disadvantage, Virgil could be quite oppressive when he wanted to be. It was easy to understand why Alan had been so upset earlier. But, unlike his youngest brother, Scott wasn't so easily intimidated.

"The last thing I want is for us to be at each other's throats," he continued. "Besides, I think you've had quite enough confrontation for one day, don't you?"

Virgil stared at his brother for a long moment, his chest noticeably rising and falling as each maddening breath escaped his lips. But as angry as he was right now, he didn't want to fight any more than Scott did. Violence never solved anything, anyway.

Finally, after coming to his senses, Virgil puffed out a long sigh. "You're right," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," said Scott, supplementing his words with a peace-offering smile. "And I'm sorry, too. All right?"

Virgil nodded mutely. Feeling somewhat deflated, he trudged over to a nearby box of medical supplies and dropped himself onto it. Then, leaning forward, he buried his face in his hands, too caught up in a whirlwind of emotions to trust himself to say, or do, anything more.

Scott allowed his brother some time to collect his bearings before joining him. They both sat quiet for a while.

"Do you love her?" Scott said at last.

Having had the chance to pull himself together, Virgil slowly lowered his hands and looked at his brother. His secret was out now, he might as well face it.

"There was a time when I was crazy about her," he said quietly. "I guess I still am."

As silence fell upon the pair once again, a single, curious thought began to tick over in Scott's mind. He was reluctant to address it at first, but inquisitiveness prevailed and he went ahead anyway, despite it being against his better judgement.

"Virg," he began, "have you and Tin-Tin ever, you know…"

Virgil glared at him, incensed by what he was implying. "No! Of course we haven't! Jeez, Scott, what do you take me for?"

Realising he'd overstepped the mark, Scott recoiled. "Sorry."

"Tin-Tin doesn't know how I feel," Virgil stressed. "And even if she did, she'd never be disloyal to Alan, and neither would I!"

"Okay, okay," Scott soothed, inching closer to his brother and reaching out to calm him. "I get the picture." Virgil tensed when Scott's hand touched his shoulder, but the elder Tracy persevered and kept it in place. "So, how long have you…"

"Felt this way?" Virgil offered perceptively. He gave a half-hearted shrug at his brother's nod. "It's hard to remember a time when I didn't..."

Virgil had instantly warmed to Tin-Tin on their very first meeting five years ago. She was a shy, demure, angelic nineteen-year-old. She was also beautiful beyond words, intelligent and wise, and blessed with a natural spark of impulsiveness and adventure. Needless to say, Virgil was smitten.

But it wasn't meant to be.

Tin-Tin's attraction to Alan soon became evident and, as difficult as it was, Virgil had no choice but to let go of his desires. He stepped aside gracefully, ego bruised but dignity intact, and allowed the young couple to get to know each other peacefully and without incident.

Over time, Alan and Tin-Tin's relationship blossomed, though naturally, they had their ups and downs. But all the while, Virgil's feelings for her remained unchanged, never once dwindling, even though he knew there was little or no chance of his affections ever being returned, or even noticed. He had to work on coming to terms with that, otherwise his constant longing for the young woman would drive him insane. It was difficult at first. Virgil tried hard to dismiss how he felt, and he would often find himself avoiding the happy couple in the hope that distance would ease his torment. Fortunately, his penchant for music and art had provided the perfect means of escapism during those long periods of time between rescues.

Gradually, Virgil learnt to encapsulate his feelings for Tin-Tin, though he continued to secretly admire her from afar. He considered it his duty to ensure she was happy, and as long as she was, that's all that mattered.

His deep-seated resentment towards Alan had started to become a problem, however. It had been the cause of his undoing, at least where Scott was concerned. Virgil had been jealous of Alan from the beginning. And what happened earlier today was an example of just how savage and cruel this unbridled envy of his could be when it was unwittingly released. Though, usually, such an outburst was followed by intense pangs of guilt and regret, something which even Virgil admitted was a justifiable punishment after verbally attacking Alan like he did.

But the crucial moment came when Alan had revealed his intention to propose to Tin-Tin. Virgil had felt an overwhelming sense of loss. He'd felt as if a knife had sliced its way through the very fabric of his soul, releasing the torrent of emotion he had tried so desperately to keep from flooding his heart. That was the moment of his epiphany; he realised he still loved her - and it hurt.

Scott had been attentive throughout his explanation. Virgil was grateful for that. After all, it hadn't been easy.

"I know she loves Alan," he finalised. "And I've got no intention of spoiling what they have together. I just wish he treated her better, that's all. I care about both of 'em, Scott, and as much as Alan grates the hell outta me, he's still my brother...and I love him." Virgil winced. "I hate him for making me say that."

Scott's lips broke into a soft smile. He felt deeply moved by his brother's admission. Only now did he realise the significance of the burden Virgil had been carrying around for so long.

_If only Virgil had told me sooner. Maybe I could've helped him in some way. Then again, I should've picked up on the tell-tale signs myself. They were there all along, right under my nose, and yet, I failed to notice. Some big brother I am. _

Still, this wasn't a time for self-recrimination. Scott had a duty to perform. Without a word, he leaned forward and pulled his brother into a firm hug.

Virgil accepted the offer of affection without resisting.

"Virg, why didn't you say anything? You know I hate it when you guys hold back on me. It kills me to know you've been hurting all this time."

"I couldn't have told you," Virgil pointed out. "What would I have said? 'Hey, Scott, I'm in love with a beautiful girl, who's charming, witty, cute and intelligent…and who just so happens to be in a serious relationship with our youngest brother'." He let out a snort. "I'm sure that would've gone down well."

Scott was vaguely amused at how his brother had worded that last part. Sarcasm was Virgil's speciality. But even so, he felt put out by the fact that Virgil had kept him in the dark.

"I still think you should've said something, though."

If Scott's arms hadn't had such a firm grasp around his shoulders, Virgil would have shrugged. "I was kinda hoping to deal with it myself. I guess I failed, huh?"

Scott sent a glance skyward. Sometimes, his brothers took stubbornness to the extreme. "How many times do I have to tell you guys not to try and cope with stuff like this on your own? I'm your big brother for a reason, you know. I wouldn't have judged you."

"Yeah, I know."

"Besides, you didn't fail. Alan didn't find out."

Virgil let out a dejected sigh. "You did."

Scott gave his brother's back a gentle rub. "Yeah, well, I'm not gonna say anything. But I suggest you be more careful from now on, Virg. You gotta keep a lid on that temper of yours, because if Alan-"

"I know, I know," Virgil muttered. "I'll keep my mouth shut."

Scott hugged his brother tighter, signifying his support and understanding.

Virgil responded in kind. As the seconds went by, however, he began to feel a little uncomfortable. He appreciated his brother's heartfelt gesture, but Scott was unaware of his own strength at times and Virgil soon found himself struggling to breathe.

"Uh, Scott," he murmured, voice straining as his lungs pleaded for air. "Are you trying to comfort me or kill me?"

Scott chuckled softly and withdrew from the embrace. "Sorry."

Virgil tilted his head back, squinting at his brother in mock suspicion. "Mm-hmm."

The grin on Scott's face gradually faded. "So, what are you gonna do?" he asked, tone now sounding as serious as his face looked.

"Apologise to Alan."

"Apart from that."

"You mean Tin-Tin?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah."

Virgil thought for a moment, eyes growing distant. "I'll do what I've always done. I'll stay out of the way and be happy for both her and Alan. After all, it's the honourable thing to do."

**To be continued…**

* * *

**Author's Note: **Of all the chapters I've written, this one has been the most challenging. My aim was to get a perspective from both Scott and Virgil's point of view - something which I found incredibly difficult to do. I'm not entirely satisfied with the final outcome, but after more than enough rewrites, I felt this was the best I could come up with. I would welcome any suggestions.

And just for the record (although, I'm not 100% sure), I think canon states that Tin-Tin is slightly older than Alan, so I've written her as being 24yrs old in this story, Alan being 23.

Dare I ask you to review...?


	6. Chapter 6: Moonlight

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Thunderbirds. The following story has been written purely for entertainment purposes - no profit is being made by the author.

Once again, my sincerest thanks to all those who have reviewed so far, and special thanks to Whirlgirl, who I couldn't reply to personally.

This is another fairly quick update. I have a very busy week coming up, so I thought I'd better post this chapter now, in case I didn't have time to later on.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Moonlight**

Alan had chosen the perfect spot for a picnic; a secluded area of beach, peaceful, romantic, and far away from prying eyes. It was also a place which served a special meaning. It was the exact same spot where he and Tin-Tin had shared their very first kiss. Alan was sure she would be impressed that he'd remembered.

Smiling with pride at his own thoughtfulness, he placed the picnic basket down and quickly got to work.

He soon had everything set up. It was nothing too extravagant - Tin-Tin appreciated the simplest of pleasures - but Alan had spared no expense when it came to the food. He had included a rich selection of Tin-Tin's favourite treats, as well as an abundance of snacks he himself had a fondness for. They would be in no danger of going hungry tonight. The pink roses he'd bought had been arranged into an elegant display, courtesy of his grandmother, and were now taking pride of place as a centre-piece. Half a dozen or so miniature candle lanterns were dotted around nearby to provide subtle light and, Alan hoped, further enhance the mood.

Now there was only one more task left to complete. He took the container of strawberries and began dividing the fruit equally into two crystal bowls; preparing them for the chilled cream he'd brought along in a thermos, which would be added later in accordance to personal taste. He frowned when he counted only nineteen instead of twenty. He thought for a moment, then smiled.

"Scott. I knew it."

Chuckling, his eldest brother instantly forgiven, Alan ate a strawberry, making their numbers even again. He then reached into his trouser pocket and withdrew the small black box. He prised it open, taking one last peek at the diamond ring as if to assure himself it was still there, then snapped the box shut and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Once he'd lit the lanterns, Alan took a step back to admire his work. Perfect. Now all he had to do was wait.

He felt confident John would make good on an earlier promise and persuade Tin-Tin to come. After all, if anyone could do it, it was John. Both Scott and John had managed to talk Alan into continuing with his plans and not to give up, like the young man originally threatened to do whilst in the throes of his earlier sombre mood. For a moment, Alan felt humbled by his brothers' efforts to ensure his evening would still go ahead. They had given him hope and renewed his confidence, a task even he had to admit wasn't easily achievable whenever he was sulking.

As his mind continued to wander, Alan thought about what he would do if ever he found himself without his brothers. It wasn't a particularly pleasant thought, however, and he quickly shrugged it off, realising that dwelling on such a thing did no favours for his frame of mind. Instead, he decided to concentrate on how fortunate he was to have such a loving family, and made a mental note to show his appreciation for his siblings more often. Although, presently, he still had reservations about Virgil.

Alan glanced around the deserted beach. Still no sign of Tin-Tin. He checked his wristwatch.

"Eight-thirty already. Gee, I hope John remembered to tell her where to meet me."

He sighed, gaze floating out towards the vast, shimmering ocean. He stood silent and still for a while, pondering over how he would go about asking Tin-Tin for her hand in marriage. He hadn't given it much consideration until now.

The faint rumble of a distant Fireflash cruising high above the thinning clouds brought him out of his thoughts. He looked at his watch again.

"Eight-forty? Damn."

Just when he was beginning to think this evening would end in total disaster, movement caught the corner of his eye. He turned in its direction, and expelled a thankful breath when he saw Tin-Tin making her way along the sandy beach towards him. The light breeze rolling in from the ocean gently swept up her loose ebony hair and she brought up her hands to tuck the unruly locks back behind her ears. Alan smiled. It was the simplest of actions, but one of many mannerisms the young woman possessed that never failed to charm him, no matter how many times he witnessed it. He strolled over to her, guided by the moonlit sand as it glistened before him.

As Tin-Tin grew nearer, Alan found himself glued to her by her breathtaking radiance. She was pure beauty bathed in moonlight. He noticed how flawless her lightly tanned skin was, and how the dress she wore accentuated every curve of the perfectly sculpted figure beneath. Nearer still, and he could see the magnificent lunar glow reflecting in her eyes, making them sparkle like precious green jewels adorned with blazing lustre. Alan felt his heart flutter, a subtle indication proving that he loved this woman so very, very much.

His eyes held her, taking in every detail of her delicate features. He then realised something was missing. Her smile. He suddenly remembered why, and the guilt over his earlier exploit returned; twisting itself into an ugly knot as it settled heavy in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed, forcing a smile.

"Hi," he began, acting as calm and composed as possible, hoping Tin-Tin wouldn't notice his increasing nervousness. "You look...nice."

Alan inwardly scolded himself at his pathetic attempt to break the ice. And he could tell by the way Tin-Tin wrinkled her smooth brow that she was less than impressed.

"John said you wanted to talk to me. So, here I am."

"Yeah," Alan said quietly, deciding to abandon the small-talk and focus on the task at hand. "I want to apologise and explain about what happened earlier. If you'll allow me to, that is."

Tin-Tin stared at him, the skin around her eyes tightened. She glanced over his shoulder. "That's a bit elaborate for an apology, isn't it? You seem to have gone to a lot of trouble."

Alan shrugged, his response sincere. "It was no trouble. Besides, it's the least I can do." He offered out his hand. "Join me?"

The young woman stood thoughtfully for a few moments, then let out a resigned sigh. "All right."

She tentatively slipped her hand into his and let him lead the way. He glanced back every now and then to offer her a warm, encouraging smile.

The couple settled down on the picnic blanket, facing each other. Alan started by pouring the drinks.

"It's a beautiful night tonight, don't you think?"

Tin-Tin nodded. "Yes, it's very nice." She hesitated when Alan gave her a tall glass filled to the brim with sparkling liquid.

"It's okay, it's non-alcoholic grape juice," he said. "I know you don't like to drink, and I certainly couldn't face any more of the real stuff again today, that's for sure."

The young woman tilted her head slightly. "What do you mean?"

Alan sucked in his breath, suddenly aware of what he'd said. "Oh, nothing." He quickly changed the subject before Tin-Tin could probe him any further. "Anyway, would you like something to eat? I don't know about you, but I'm starving." He began scrupulously rummaging through the picnic basket. "I got some prawns marinated in chilli and garlic oil in here if you'd like one..."

"Alan…"

"...Or spinach tortilla wraps with smoked salmon and cream cheese, I know you like those. Or there's-"

"Alan!"

He looked up. "Yeah?"

"I'm waiting."

"What for?"

Tin-Tin sighed and set down her drink. "You're explanation."

"Oh. Don't you wanna eat first?"

The young woman's caustic stare reminded Alan that he was treading on thin ice. If he failed to handle the situation with care, Tin-Tin would most likely storm off again. He didn't want that to happen, not after all the hard work it took to get this far. He had to take action. Now.

Positioning himself onto his knees, he drew the box out of his pocket. He held it briefly, chewing his bottom lip whilst trying to think of what to say, then decided that in this case, honesty would the best policy.

"This is the reason why I took your ring," he said, giving Tin-Tin the box.

Curiosity etched the young woman's pretty face as she carefully examined the object now sitting in the palm of her hand.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Well, I was gonna wait until after we had dessert. But I guess with all things considered..." Alan sighed heavily, disappointed that he wouldn't have the chance to propose to her in the way he'd hoped. "You might as well open it now."

Tin-Tin's nimble fingers worked on the box with tediously refined neatness. Alan held his breath, fighting an urge to grab it back and do it for her. He was notoriously impatient. It was a trait he shared along with the rest of his brothers, John being the only exception, or sometimes Virgil - on a good day.

At last, Tin-Tin prised the box open. Alan exhaled, the brief tension melting away in an instant.

"Oh, Alan, it's beautiful!"

Alan felt a sweeping sense of relief. He even managed a smile. She liked it. It was a start. But when Tin-Tin's expression faltered, his stomach lurched with profound worry and he began to think he'd celebrated all too soon.

"But I don't understand," she said, shaking her head a little. "What does this have to do with you stealing from me?"

Alan eyed her critically. He thought it would have been obvious. Apparently not. However, he was unnerved by the bluntness of her question. He felt shameful enough as it was without her seemingly rubbing it in.

"I didn't _steal_ your ring, I borrowed it. I..." He paused, deciding not to finish the rest of his sentence. Truth was, he _had_ stolen from her, no matter how much he tried to rationalise it. And even though it pained him to admit the fact, there was no point in being evasive about it.

"Listen, Tin-Tin," he continued, "I'm sorry for what I did. Truly sorry. And if it's any consolation, I feel awful about it. I took your ring because - well, I needed to know - you see, it's..." Alan was having a little difficulty, but at last he formulated what he wanted to say. "I took your ring because I wanted to make sure this one would fit." He gestured to the box. "It's an engagement ring."

"Engagement ring?" Tin-Tin looked at him, realisation dawning. "You mean...?"

Alan took a deep breath. "Tin-Tin, I'm so sorry for all the hurt I've caused you today. I've been a complete jackass. If I could go back in time and change it all, I would, but..." He looked down, examining his fingernails in an almost child-like fashion. "You see, I was gonna ask you to marry me..."

"Oh, Alan."

"...Because I want us to spend the rest of our lives together..."

"Yes!"

"...But I'll understand if you don't want to. I know I don't deserve someone as good as you and...huh?" He looked up at her. She was beaming joyfully, eyes dancing in amusement. Alan blinked. "What did you just say?"

The young woman laughed. "I said yes, Alan." She graced him with a forgiving smile. "Yes, I will marry you."

Alan's eyes grew wide, the shock almost bowling him over. It took a few seconds for him to remember how to breathe, and even longer for Tin-Tin's words to sink in.

"But...but I thought you were still-"

"Mad at you?" Tin-Tin presumed.

Alan's face pinched in confusion. "Yeah."

Tin-Tin shook her head, expression sobering a little. "No. Not anymore. I had a chance to calm down a little and talking to John helped. He has a way of helping people put things into perspective." She was quiet for a moment. "He made me realise how unreasonable and foolish I'd been."

"Oh, sweetheart, you weren't foolish," Alan kindly offered. "You had every reason to be upset. I woulda been mad at me, too."

The young woman smiled weakly at him before a frown settled over her eyes. "Now I understand why you couldn't tell me about all of this before. I should've known you had a good reason for doing what you did. I should've trusted you." She reached over, placed a warm hand on his. "I'm sorry I called you a liar and a thief, Alan. I didn't mean it."

Grateful for her apology, Alan smiled and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "I know, it's okay. But are you sure you wanna do this?" he asked, worried it was all too good to be true and that at any moment now, she would have a change of heart. Alan doubted he would ever be able to understand how a woman's mind worked. "I mean, you might need some time to think it over and-"

"I don't need to think it over," Tin-Tin urged gently. "Oh, Alan, I've been waiting for you to ask me to marry you for ages."

"You have?"

She nodded and her smile returned, brighter than ever. "I was beginning to think you never would. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you." She handed him the box. "But I think we should do this the traditional way, don't you?"

Alan beamed. He couldn't agree more. He was finally getting a chance to do this right, after all.

Scrambling to his feet, he rounded the picnic blanket and took hold of Tin-Tin's hand to help her up. It was a rather clumsy effort on her part, though, and halfway up, she lost her footing, shrieking when she fell back down and very nearly taking an unsuspecting Alan with her.

Despite their embarrassment, they both giggled. Thankfully, their amusement was short-lived and although weak from laughter, a second attempt proved successful.

Once the young couple had composed themselves, Alan geared himself up for the inevitable.

"You ready?" he asked, pulse racing with nervous excitement. Though the question was more for his benefit than hers.

Tin-Tin gave him a confident nod.

After taking a steadying breath, Alan carefully lowered himself down onto one knee. He grimaced when he felt an unexpected cold wetness seeping through his cotton slacks.

_What the...? Oh, darn. Why did I have to do this so close to the tidemark?_

But he had no time to worry about that now. Pushing his discomfort to one side, he cleared his throat and presented Tin-Tin with the open box.

"Tin-Tin," he began, gazing attentively into the young woman's eyes, "I promise I'll never do wrong by you again. I love you so much. You mean the whole world and more to me, and I can't ever imagine a future without you by my side..."

Alan found himself momentarily taken aback by his own heartfelt words. He drew in a deep breath, regaining control. He then pulled the ring out from its box and poised it near the young woman's left hand.

"Tin-Tin, sweetheart, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

The young woman nodded, eyes shining with tears. "Yes," she whispered, breath catching in her throat. "Yes, I will."

Trembling with contained euphoria, Alan carefully slipped the ring onto her finger. Perfect fit. He then eased himself up, quickly wiping away the coarse sand from the damp patch on his knee.

Tin-Tin stared in awe at the dazzling diamond solitaire. She was crying now.

Alan regarded her with a compassionate frown and cupped her delicate cheeks in his hands, gently thumbing away the newly fallen tears. His heart fluttered once again when she gave him a shy, apologetic smile. He bent forward, resting his forehead against hers.

"I love you," he whispered, planting a soft kiss on her brow.

The young woman looked up at him, beaming with mutual affection. "I love you, too."

Alan wrapped his arms around Tin-Tin's small waist and drew her close until he felt the warmth of her body against his own. He allowed his eyes to close as their lips met. The couple kissed tenderly for a long moment, then relaxed into each other's arms.

Alan gazed up at the majestic full moon dominating the night sky, momentarily captivated by its impossible clarity. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the fresh salty air, and feeling a sense of inner calm as the cool evening breeze lightly brushed over his skin. Then, he closed his eyes, listening only to the sounds of placid ocean waves washing ashore and the steady rhythm of Tin-Tin's breathing. He wanted to savour every minute of the here and now, determined to remember this night for the rest of his life. He smiled to himself, hugging Tin-Tin all the more, never wanting to let her go. She was the love of his life, his soul-mate, and at that precise moment in time, Alan Tracy felt happy beyond human desire.

**To be continued…**

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**Author's Note:** I hope you enjoyed Alan and Tin-Tin's special moment. Don't forget to let me know what you think. :)


	7. Chapter 7: Reflections

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Thunderbirds. The following story has been written purely for entertainment purposes - no profit is being made by the author.

I'm a little late posting this. Sorry. The busy week I had quickly turned into two very busy weeks and my feet hardly touched the ground. Plus, I had trouble uploading this update. FF.N was being a right royal pain in the...

Anyway, I was overjoyed with the reviews for the previous chapter. Thank you so much everyone, and thanks also to Whirlgirl and anon - both of whom I couldn't reply to personally.

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**Chapter 7: Reflections**

Covering up an insubordinate brother's tracks was second nature to Scott Tracy. In fact, he was sure that if he were given a dollar for every time he'd to come to a sibling's rescue, he would've amassed a fortune equal to that of his father's. Scott had learnt a long time ago that a big brother's work was never done. He didn't mind, though. Not one bit. If anything, he considered his role an honour, nothing more, nothing less.

Scott had taken a bottle of whiskey out from the drinks cabinet to refill the decanter Alan had almost emptied earlier. It was just as well both he and John were on hand to disarm the young man of his drink, and not their caffeine-deprived father. The Tracy patriarch would have had kittens if he had caught his youngest son gulping down his whiskey like it was going out of fashion. Poor Alan. Virgil had been right about one thing; the kid still had a lot of growing up to do, despite being twenty-three and recently engaged. Well, the latter had yet to be officially confirmed, of course, but judging by the fact that neither Alan nor Tin-Tin had returned from their picnic, Scott felt it safe enough to assume all had gone well.

Once his task was complete, Scott poured himself a drink. He then put the bottle back inside the cupboard, nestling it amongst the others and being mindful not to make too much noise. Alan was in the clear, at least for the time being. Scott hoped it would stay that way.

He was about to take a sip from his glass, when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the mirrored picture frames on the wall. Although he'd dismissed the earlier taunts his brothers had thrown at him about his age, much like water off a duck's back, Scott knew sooner or later he would have to face the dismal fact that he wasn't getting any younger. And with that thought now firmly in mind, he leaned closer and began scrutinising his appearance. As far as he could tell, there were no grey hairs. But his image was a little distorted on the frame's bevelled edge, making it difficult to undertake a thorough examination. He sighed, filing a mental note to carry out a more detailed inspection in the privacy of his own bedroom.

"Wanna pour one for the old man?"

At the sound of his father's voice, Scott spun around. A half-smile tugged at his lips. "I already have," he stated dryly, holding up his drink in spite of himself.

Jeff grinned and reached out to ruffle his son's hair - the only family member, apart from his grandmother, Scott would ever allow to do such a thing.

"You're not old, son," he said, relieving his first-born of pouring duty and helping himself to a scotch. "And you're not grey yet, either."

Scott frowned, confused for an instant. He then realised his father must have seen him checking out his reflection. Nothing ever escaped Jeff Tracy's keen eye.

"No," he admitted, failing to contain a self-conscious grin. "I guess not."

Jeff let out a deep chuckle. Scott hadn't heard his father laugh like that for a few days now. It was a welcome display. Scott half-suspected that Jeff had somehow managed to grab a secret caffeine fix at some point during the day. Nevertheless, he was pleased his father seemed more jovial tonight, even if it was at his expense.

Jeff raised an enquiring eyebrow at the drink in his son's hand. "Tough day?"

Scott let out a hollow sigh and starred into his glass, idly rotating it and watching the ochre liquid swirl around the sides. Part of him wanted to tell his father everything, but he knew better than to betray a brother's trust.

"Nothing I can't handle," he replied, giving his father a confident smile.

Jeff grinned, raising his glass. "I'll drink to that." He took a sip, then leaned towards his son's ear and whispered, "Just make sure your grandmother doesn't get to hear about this."

Scott chuckled at the hint of anxiety in his father's tone. Coffee wasn't the only indulgence Ruth had taken off the menu since finding out about Jeff's high blood-pressure, and woe betide him if she ever discovered he'd had a sneaky tipple.

"Don't worry, Dad. Your secret's safe with me."

~TB~

John Tracy stood on his balcony, his gaze wandering across the night sky, seeking out the myriad of stars and their constellations, before finally resting upon the bright, dusty satellite that outshone them all.

"Hello, beautiful," he whispered, a warm smile crossing his lips as he fully immersed himself in his own private serenity.

At that moment, faint laughter echoed throughout the stillness of the evening air. Curious, John moved over to the balcony railings and looked beyond the outline of the dense jungle treetops and out towards the ocean. And there, in the distance, he could make out two silhouettes walking hand in hand along the beach. The shorter of the two suddenly broke into a run and the other gave chase, quickly catching up. Joyful laughter drifted around the island once more.

John chuckled at the sight before him, though he felt more touched by the scene than amused by it.

"Atta boy, Al," he murmured, full of pride for his little brother. "I gotta go tell Scott."

~TB~

John found his brother alone in the lounge. Scott was seated on the couch, one leg casually crossed over the other. He sat there, motionless, staring into the empty glass he held loosely in one hand.

Maintaining his discreet distance, John studied him for a while. His eyebrows pinched at the overcast expression on Scott's face. It wasn't often he caught his eldest brother looking so troubled. Scott never willingly let the others see him like this. It was a rare spectacle. The elder Tracy had always lead his brothers to believe that he could carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. But it was moments like these that reminded John just how susceptible his big brother really was underneath all that bravado. Sometimes, he wished Scott would stop being so proud and allow the others to lighten the load once in a while. But that would be like expecting Gordon to volunteer himself for laundry duty. It'll never happen.

As John continued to observe his brother, he began toying with the idea that Scott's unconscious display of anxiety might have something to do with his earlier encounter with Virgil. Scott had been somewhat evasive about it after John had quizzed him over how it went, and he'd been quick to dismiss John's concerns about Virgil's odd behaviour - telling him not to worry as the matter had been dealt with. Naturally, John accepted that. He respected his brothers' privacy and was never one to pry. But even so, he still felt a niggling doubt. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

_Why did Virgil blow up in Alan's face like that? The poor kid's always at the top of his hit list these days. Seems he can't do anything right…_

John had been so absorbed in his thoughts, his gaze had fallen without him being aware of it. It was only when he looked back up that he realised Scott was watching him.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked, amused.

John pulled his hands out of his pockets and drew himself up to his full height. "Oh, uh, not long."

Scott gave him a quizzical look. "You were a million miles away for a moment there. Everything okay?" His light tone revealed a trace of concern.

John smiled at his brother's usual kind-hearted and selfless approach. It was typical of Scott to instantly disregard his own problems, if it meant being there for one of his siblings.

"Yeah, fine," he replied, joining his brother on the couch. "I was just thinking, that's all."

"What about?"

Scott's question took John by surprise. He hadn't expected his brother to ask him to elaborate. He had to conjure something up, fast.

"Oh, you know," he began casually, "about how nice it is that Alan and I are both home at the same time. It doesn't happen often enough and it'll be nice to spend some time with the kid."

John secretly cringed. It wasn't the best he could come up with, but after being put on the spot like that, it would have to suffice. He half-anticipated Scott to challenge him, like he had done earlier about Gordon. Instead, the elder Tracy quietly nodded. Both brothers were holding back from one another now, neither one willing to divulge. It didn't make being in each other's company uncomfortable, though. It was almost as if they had some kind of silent understanding.

"That's if you can prise him away from Tin-Tin," Scott said at last.

John grinned. "Funny you should mention that," he said, clasping his hands behind his head and stretching out his lean frame as he lay back against the couch. "I saw them both on the beach a little while ago, laughing and holding hands."

"Really?"

"Yup. They looked pretty cosy together."

"Do you think she said yes?"

John nodded, confident. "I'd put a wager on it."

Scott smiled. "Great."

It wasn't long before a calming stillness fell upon the pair and they both sat in quiet contemplation for a while. John became vaguely aware of an invisible weight pulling on his eyelids.

Eventually, Scott spoke. "I can't believe our baby brother is gonna get married. Where did all those years go?"

John blinked back his fatigue. "I know what you mean," he murmured, picking up on his brother's melancholy. "It seems like only yesterday you were helping Grandma change Alan's diapers and wiping his drool off your model airplanes."

Scott chuckled softly. "Don't remind me. I'll say one thing, I'm glad _those_ days are over."

"Aww, c'mon, you don't mean that," said John, giving his brother a knowing look.

"I don't remember you offering your services for such tasks."

John stared up at the ceiling for a moment. "True. But don't forget, I had Gordon and Virgil to deal with. They were always clashing. Unlike you, I didn't have the luxury of having my own room when we were growing up. Anyway, I think out of the two of us, you got the better deal when it came to Big Brother duties."

"At least you had the opportunity to develop your peace-keeping skills."

For a split second, John could have sworn there was a hint of envy in his brother's statement. It was a valid point, though.

"Yeah," he admitted, "I guess I did."

Scott heaved himself up. "I need a refill. Want anything?"

"No, thanks. I'll be hitting the hay pretty soon."

Scott looked down at the younger man and frowned. "You mean to tell me that my fellow night-owl of a brother is having an early night? Gee, you're no fun."

John glanced at his wristwatch. "In case you hadn't noticed, Scott, it's almost midnight."

"So?"

"Well, it's hardly early. Besides, it's been a long day."

At least for John it had. He'd been up since five 'o' clock that morning. Alan had requested a wake up call because he wanted to be off the island before Tin-Tin woke up and didn't trust his own alarm clock to do its job. John was no stranger to early mornings and was happy to oblige, but he hadn't planned on staying up this late.

Scott shook his head. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to be boring in my old age."

"Since when has old age had anything to do with that?" John deadpanned.

He broke into laughter at Scott's ominous glare, knowing that by doing so, he was further risking the possibility of payback - which would most likely be administered by the elder Tracy in physical form. But Scott looked a little weary himself and probably wouldn't resort to such tactics. Or then again, would he…?

John planned an escape route, just in case.

"Looks like you walked right into that one, Scott," Virgil declared, grinning at John as he wandered into the lounge.

"Now, don't _you_ start," Scott retorted good-naturedly, pointing an accusing finger at the new arrival. "I've had enough wisecracks from you guys to last me a lifetime."

Laying one hand flat on his chest, Virgil feigned a look of pure innocence. "Me? What did I do? I just got here."

As soon as Scott's back was turned, however, Virgil began mimicking him with a series of hand gestures and facial expressions. It was an act he had practised many times over the years, and one he was rather good at.

John casually brought up a hand to stifle a chuckle. Tiredness took a back seat as he watched his brother's performance, his shoulders periodically shaking with silent laughter.

"I know what you're doing, Virg," Scott suddenly announced, a trace of amusement taking the edge off that all too familiar Big Brother tone. "Cut it out."

Virgil froze, like he were somehow encased in invisible resin. The only movement came from his eyes when they briefly locked onto John's. He then straightened up, looked back at Scott, and poked his tongue out.

John snickered.

Without so much as a glance over his shoulder, Scott added, "And put your tongue back in."

Looking genuinely baffled, Virgil complied. With his mouth partly open, he glanced over at John as if to say '_How the hell did he know?'._

John grinned, shaking his head and raising his hands in a _beats me _gesture.

With an elaborate shrug, Virgil made his way over to the couch, puffing out a heavy sigh as he lowered his weight.

Scott soon followed, a glass tumbler in each hand. His brow creased as if objecting to Virgil taking his spot next to John. He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Here," he said, thrusting a drink into his brother's hand.

Virgil beamed up at him. "Why, thank you, Scott." He turned to John. "And a mind-reader to boot. Wow, he's really excelling himself tonight."

John couldn't resist. "Scott Carpenter Tracy: the eighth wonder of the world."

"Damn right," said Scott, an egotistical smirk sweeping over his face as he settled into the leather recliner opposite. "And don't you forget it."

"Like you're gonna let us," Virgil muttered, tongue firmly in cheek.

"Although, technically," Scott continued, crossing his legs and sinking further back into his seat, "I should be the ninth."

John frowned. "How so?"

"Grandma's apple pie," Virgil offered.

"Oh, yeah, I shoulda known," John said wryly, far from impressed when Scott flashed him an oversized grin worthy of a toothpaste commercial.

"Careful, Scott. You could cause some serious retina damage with those caps of yours."

Scott's eyes narrowed at Virgil's comment. He took a slow, deliberate sip of his drink whilst staring menacingly in his brother's direction.

"So, anyway, Virg," John began, conversationally, "how come you're still up?"

"Unfinished business," came the subdued response.

John nodded. He figured his brother meant patching things up with Alan.

"I left Brains to finish up in the lab. There wasn't much left for me to do, anyway." Virgil slouched back, absently plucking lint from his shirt. "Gordon called him, by the way."

"What about?" John asked cautiously, recalling his brother's situation. "He hasn't figured out what I've done, has he?"

Virgil shrugged. "I'm not sure. I didn't stick around long enough to find out."

"Oh."

"Well, I gotta admit, it's kinda quiet without him around," Scott mused. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he added, "We should get him to piss Dad off more often."

Virgil smirked. "Yeah, well, I'm sure if Gordon were here right now, he'd be asking me what flavour ice-cream I'd want with my humble pie."

Both Scott and John snorted at Virgil's statement. But John knew it was just his brother's way of making light of a task which was going to be understandably difficult, and one which Virgil was obviously dreading. John was glad things looked more promising now, though. At least with the peace restored, he'd get a decent night's sleep. For the time being, he was happy to sit and listen to his brothers' conversation. But it wasn't long before drowsiness set in again and John's weary mind soon began to slip away into a peaceful darkness…

A sudden, sharp pain in the lower left side of his ribcage caused him to jolt violently. Eyes he never realised he'd closed shot open. Blinking frantically to regain his focus, he looked over at Scott, then at Virgil. Both his brothers had the same look of amusement on their faces.

Confused, John frowned and rubbed his side, all at once remembering why he'd been so rudely startled.

"Ouch," he moaned, glowering at Virgil. "What was that for?"

"You fell asleep," Virgil replied, mirth flashing in his eyes.

John sat up, arching his back to relieve the stiffness. "I did?"

"Uh-huh," Scott murmured. "And you started snoring."

John shot him a glare. "I don't snore."

"Wanna bet?"

Virgil chuckled. "We should have Gordon hide an audio recorder somewhere on Five, just to prove him wrong."

John vaguely waved a hand at his brothers' laughter. "Whatever." Yawning, he lay back again, arms folding snugly over his chest.

"Go to bed, John. I've no intention of carrying you to your room if you fall asleep again. You're heavier than you look."

John's tired eyes slowly began to close. "S'okay, Scott, I'm good. I'll just…you guys talk, I'm listening…"

"Johnny," Virgil called melodically, poking his brother once more. In the same spot.

"Ow!" John whined, the spontaneous jerk of his body in response to the painful jab annoying him in equal measures. "Will you quit it!"

Virgil smiled sweetly at him. "Nope."

John sighed, frustrated. There was no point in fighting it anymore, sleep was winning. And so were his brothers.

"Okay, fine. I'm going." He wrenched himself out of his seat, dragging the weight of his shadow along with him.

He had barely shuffled three steps when Alan came bounding through the balcony door like an over-excited puppy, a huge grin plastered on his face.

"She said yes!"

Once again, John was pulled out of exhaustion's grasp - pleasantly this time - and both he and Scott went over to congratulate the happy couple. Tin-Tin took great pleasure in showing off her diamond ring.

"Wow, Tin-Tin, it's beautiful," said John, bending down to kiss her cheek. "Just like you."

She looked away, blushing. "Oh, I don't know about that."

"Well, I do," Scott put in, smiling fondly at the young woman before wrapping his arms around her. "Alan made a good choice, in more ways than one. Congratulations, honey."

"Thank you, Scott," she said, pulling away. She then hugged John. "Thank you. For everything."

"You're welcome," he said softly.

"Okay, you guys," Alan chimed in happily, prising Tin-Tin away from John's arms, "enough already. Let my _fiancée_ get some air, will ya."

"Fiancée," Scott repeated with a measure of thoughtfulness. He tilted his head at the young couple, face a picture of pure delight. "How 'bout those two, huh?"

John folded his arms, grinning at them appraisingly. "They sure look cute together."

"Cute?" Alan cried, scowling in disgust, much to John's amusement. "I'm not cute!"

"Oh, but you are, Alan!" Tin-Tin playfully argued, reaching up to pinch his cheeks. "Especially when you're pouting."

Alan's face turned beet red. "Tin-Tin, please," he groaned, squirming when the young woman tickled his chin and began making cooing noises. "Not in front of the guys."

Scott chuckled, shaking his head.

"Looks like you've got her exactly where she wants you, Al," John quipped, winking at Tin-Tin whilst ignoring the light punch Alan delivered to his upper arm.

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that," the young man said in mock conceit, grinning boldly at Tin-Tin's dangerous glare.

Scott regarded his brother quietly for a moment before enveloping him in a bear hug.

"You did good, kiddo," he murmured, squeezing Alan's shoulder as they separated. "I'm proud of you."

"Me, too," John added, ruffling his brother's hair, cunningly using alternate hands to evade Alan's opposing arms. He then grabbed the young man and held him in a brief hug.

Alan looked up at his brothers, beaming. "Thanks, guys. I couldn't have done it without you. And I want you both to know that I really appreciate…" He broke off, cheerful expression waning.

"Congratulations, kiddo," Virgil said warmly, coming to stand next to John and offering out his hand.

Alan cautiously shook it. "Thanks, Virg."

Virgil stepped forward and pulled the young man into a lingering embrace. He was murmuring something into Alan's ear. John couldn't hear what he was saying, but Alan seemed to appreciate it.

"It's fine, Virg, really…Yeah, I know…I love you, too." The genuine smile now adorning the young man's face was a clear sign that all was well between the pair, at last.

Once Virgil had worded his best wishes to Tin-Tin, they all grouped together in the lounge and chatted animatedly about the idea of an engagement party. Alan suggested they wait a few days and have a double celebration, to coincide with Scott's birthday. Scott agreed and arrangements were laid out.

Virgil remained decidedly quiet throughout the discussion, participating only when asked for his input. After a short while, he politely excused himself. John looked on, puzzled by his brother's sudden departure. Virgil hadn't even finished his drink. Something was still bothering him. But what? John glanced over at Alan and Tin-Tin, who were both oblivious to it all as they sat kissing and canoodling on the sofa. He gave in to a smile at the young couple's carefree display of affection, briefly tempted to tell the inseparable pair to 'get a room'. But then he looked at Scott, who in turn met his gaze with an expression that spoke a thousand words.

And John suddenly knew.

**To be continued…**

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**Author's Note:** Okay, we're almost at the end of the story now. There's just one more chapter left after this one. As always, reviews will be most appreciated, so please spare a few moments to let me know what you think. Thank you.


	8. Chapter 8: Busted!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Thunderbirds. The following story has been written purely for entertainment purposes - no profit is being made by the author.

A huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed and supported me throughout the duration of this story. Your comments have consistently warmed my heart, and from an author's perspective, there is no greater reward. :) Whirlgirl, I'm greatful for your feedback, thank you so much.

Well, this is it, folks. The final chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

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**Chapter 8: Busted!**

Several minutes had passed since Alan and Tin-Tin retired for the evening, their desire to be alone together too strong to resist. John should have gone to bed, too. He was exhausted. Over-tired, in fact. And he knew he would have difficulty sleeping because of this. He usually did. But he wasn't particularly concerned about that right now. He had a more pressing issue on his mind…

_It all makes perfect sense. Virgil's got an eye for Tin-Tin. He's always had a soft spot for her. I remember teasing Alan about it on a few occasions. In hindsight, maybe that wasn't such a good idea. It's pretty clear Virgil's feelings for her run a lot deeper than mere fondness. And if that's the case, news of Alan and Tin-Tin's engagement must have dealt him one heck of a blow. Oh, man, this is awful. Poor Virg. And Scott knows. It's obvious he does - it explains why he looked so tense earlier. Maybe I should say something. Maybe I should tell him that I know..._

John steered a glance over to where his brother was seated. Scott appeared to be wrapped up in his own thoughts. His posture was slack and his expression oddly vacant; unblinking eyes transfixed in a distant stare. John frowned to himself, plagued by a sudden doubt.

_I can't just blurt it out, though. What if I'm wrong? I need to be subtle here…_

He cleared his throat softly so as not to startle his brother. "Scott?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think Virgil's okay? Only, he seemed a little edgy tonight, like he was upset about something."

Scott sat quiet for a moment, the same look of anxiety John had previously witnessed shrouding his features once again. But this time, it was fleeting.

"Nah," he said, pushing himself to his feet, steadily stretching out his muscular form. "He was just a little tired, that's all. Like you said earlier, it's been a long day…" He trailed off, overcome by a sudden yawn. Looking mildly perplexed, he added, "For all of us, it would seem."

John's brow creased. Virgil, tired? He would've preferred Scott to have been a little more specific than that. He decided to dig deeper.

"But it's not like Virgil to suddenly up and leave like that," he insisted. "Even if he is tired. Something's bothering him, Scott. I'm sure of it."

Scott regarded him doubtfully, then sighed. "Look, John. I know you're worried about him, but there's no need to be. Really." He smiled reassuringly. "Trust me, everything's fine."

John looked on as his brother started busying himself with collecting empty glasses.

_Damn. Scott doesn't wanna talk about it. And there's no way I'll be able to get him to open up. I'm gonna have to take a risk and tell him what I think. I know there's a possibility I could be wrong, but unless I say something, I'll never know for sure. Come on, John, you can do this. Tell him. Just come straight out with it. Get it over with. It'll be okay. It'll be fine…_

He got up and tracked after his brother. "Listen, Scott, I-" A loud, intermittent beeping noise abruptly cut him off. Gordon's timing sure was lousy. "Dammit!"

Scott looked back over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.

Realising he'd expressed his frustration a lot more brashly than he should have, John grimaced. "Sorry." Now wasn't the right time to address the matter. The opportunity was lost.

"Go ahead, Gordon."

Gordon's image instantly appeared on the video screen. He seemed a lot happier than he did earlier. This had John worried.

"Before you say anything, Scott, I know Dad's already gone to bed. You could set a watch by his routine. So you've no need to lecture me on the risk of calling, okay? Besides…" Gordon locked eyes with John, an ominous grin curving his mouth. "This can't wait."

John's stomach instantly dropped. _Oh, God, he knows. He knows! _

"All right, kiddo," said Scott. "Make it quick."

Gordon sat back, arms folded. "I had a very interesting chat with Brains a little while ago and…" He paused, face closing in thought. "Gee, that's something I never thought I'd hear myself say…" He shook his head. "Anyhow, I was telling him all about my space sickness and I asked him if he could help. Those darn meclizine tablets weren't working, so he told me to run a full systems check on the environmental controls and, after twenty minutes of troubleshooting, we finally hit the jackpot…"

John gulped, colour swiftly draining from his cheeks.

Gordon stared at him for a long, agonising moment. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about the lack of pressure on the gravity compensators, would you, John?"

John's mouth went dry. "Gravity compensators?" he repeated innocently, scratching his head.

Scott began to snigger. John caught sight of him in his peripheral vision and threw him a venomous glare, only to have it further fuel his brother's amusement.

"Yeah," Gordon drawled, eyeing Scott warily as he spoke. "You know, the ones that need adjusting _manually_. Brains told me they'd been tampered with. He said, and I quote: 'The pressure levels have been effectively modified to contradict their established parameters'." Gordon's eyes narrowed dangerously. "So, John. How d'you explain that one, huh?"

John felt a tremor of dread run full length down his spine. "I…uh…have you asked Alan?" he offered, praying the diversion would work.

It didn't.

"Yeah, just now," Gordon confirmed. "But he was too busy goofing around with his _fiancée_. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for 'em. But Alan was acting all love-struck and mushy, and he didn't have a clue what I was trying to say. So, knowing you guys were still up, he said to ask _you_."

"Oh," John murmured sullenly. He looked over at Scott, putting on a pained expression in a desperate bid for assistance and mouthing the words _'help me'_.

Scott succumbed to his laughter. "Sorry, John. You're on your own with this one." He gave his brother's shoulder a consoling pat. "It's been nice knowing ya, buddy."

John panicked when he turned and quickly stalked off. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Bed!" Scott called over his shoulder, chuckling as he left. "G'night, fellas!"

"G'night, Scott!"

"Scott, wait! Don't leave me!" But it was too late. "Darn it." John sighed. He then became aware of Gordon's eyes burning into the back of his skull. He cringed and slowly turned to face him, lips trembling into a nervous smile.

"Well?" prompted Gordon, a sinister half-smirk strategically in place. "I'm waiting."

John cursed inwardly. The innocent routine failed, so he tried a different tactic...

"Oh, boy," he said, glancing at his wristwatch, "would you look at the time. Well, as much as I'd like to stay here and chat with you, Gords, I can't. I'm sorry. I gotta be up early. I, uh…I promised Grandma I'd help with breakfast."

"But-"

"Goodnight!"

Before giving his brother a chance to retort, John broke into motion and made a beeline for the exit. He hurtled down the corridor at breakneck speed, barely maintaining traction when he took a right-hand corner a little too sharply. But no matter how far away he got, he could still hear Gordon's menacing voice echoing throughout the quietness of the villa.

"You can run, John Tracy, but you can't hide! Just you wait 'till I get back down there! Older brother or not, your ass is toast!"

~The End~

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**Author's Note: **The end. Well, for now at least. I have a couple of short companion stories in the works, and I intend to post them at a later date. So, until then, I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. And please don't forget to review! Thank you. :)


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